Flirting with Convention
by Apollo888
Summary: Their first meeting was not, in fact, their first meeting. A non-linear AU tale beginning in Series 1.
1. Chapter 1

**Downton Abbey, England, September 1912**

"I've been studying the story of Andromeda, do you know it?"

"Why?"

"Her father was King Cepheus, whose country was being ravaged by storms, and in the end, he decided the only way to appease the gods was to sacrifice his eldest daughter to a hideous sea monster. So they chained her naked to a rock…"

"Really, Mary! We'll all need smelling salts in a minute."

"But the sea monster didn't get her, did he?"

"No. Just when it seemed he was the only solution to her father's problems, she was rescued."

"By Perseus."

"That's right. Perseus. Son of a God. Rather more fitting, wouldn't you say?"

"That depends. I'd have to know more about the princess and the sea monster in question."

The rest of dinner was no better than the unqualified disaster that it started out to be. Mary and Matthew seemed to retreat to neutral corners, and spent the rest of the meal talking to anyone else except each other.

Cora escorted the ladies through and gave her husband a concerned look as they left the dining room. Robert sighed as he shared a drink with Matthew.

"I must apologize for Mary. She's rather used to getting her own way most of the time, you see, and…"

"Lord Grantham," Matthew raised his hand, looking somewhat exasperated. "Please, there is no need to apologize. Cousin Mary has made it abundantly clear just what she thinks of me, as well as your bringing me here."

"Well," Robert sighed. "Things will get better, Matthew."

The two men could only muster token smiles.

Matthew spent most of his time with Cora and Isobel when they came through. Mary stayed with her sisters and did not even glance in his direction. After having sherry and playing bridge, Violet rose purposefully, holding her cane in front of her.

"It is time that I went home," she declared. "It's getting late and I'm afraid that there's nothing left for me here tonight." She looked pointedly at Mary, then to Robert.

"Of course. Good night, Mama, I'll see you out."

"Perhaps we should leave as well. It is getting quite late," Isobel explained.

"Just one moment," Robert replied. "Edith, please take Cousin Isobel to the door and tell Carson to have the motor brought around. Matthew, I wanted to give you a book. It's a short history of Downton and the Village. It belonged to my father, actually and we've been updating it every so often. It might help you get a better idea of the place. It's just over in the library. I'll have Bates fetch it for you."

"Darling," Cora called. "Why don't you let poor Bates off this once? I'm sure Mary can go get the book for Matthew."

"But why? Bates is perfectly capable," Mary protested.

Cora shot her a withering look. "You will get that book for Matthew, and while you're at it you will apologize to him for your ridiculous behaviour tonight! Now go and stop embarrassing your Papa and me!" Cora hissed under her breath. Mary gasped in shock and Sybil had to hide her open mouth with her hand.

"Mary may as well show you the library, Matthew," Robert agreed. "It's actually a rather enjoyable part of the house."

"Yes, Mary will certainly take you to the library, Matthew," Cora smiled.

Robert and Edith walked Violet and Isobel towards the Great Hall. Mary rolled her eyes and motioned for Matthew to follow her out another door. When the room was emptier, Cora sat down and shook her head. Sybil simply laughed and Cora gave her a stern gaze before smiling herself and shaking her head yet again.

Mary and Matthew walked down a hallway in silence. Mary's step was purposeful and quick, as though she were desperate to reach the library. Matthew, refusing to be seen following behind her, matched her stride for stride, neither of them looking at each other and each holding their heads high.

"In here," Mary mumbled as she pointed towards another door. Matthew reached it ahead of her, and, thinking twice, he opened it and allowed her to step into the room first. The library was already darkened as the servants had put out most of the lights, not expecting anyone to use the room the rest of the evening. Matthew closed the door behind them.

Mary walked over to a shelf where she expected the book in question to be located. She peered across the titles before finding the correct volume. She took it from the shelves and turned, handing it to Matthew.

"Here," she said simply. She looked up at him with a bored expression.

Matthew returned her indifference. He reached out and took the book from her outstretched hand. Mary continued to watch him and Matthew's eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a smirk.

Before Mary knew what was going on, he dropped the book to the floor. He crossed the two steps between them swiftly and grabbed hold of her. Mary gasped, her eyes wide and her pulse racing. His one arm slid around her waist and the other came up her back, his fingers resting against the nape of her neck.

His lips crashed against hers insistently, his grip pressing their bodies together. Mary's hands moved from his shoulders to his hair and she moaned as she opened her mouth to him and their tongues caressed, tasting each other as though they were each starving for the flavour of the other.

They kissed for several moments before he lifted his head and pulled back, holding her by her hips, her hands came down to linger on his chest. They were both breathing quickly and their eyes opened, seeing lust and need reflected back in each other's gaze.

"Matthew!" she said huskily, pulling him back towards her. He kissed her neck as she ran her gloved hands up his back. "Oh God, I have wanted your hands on me this entire evening."

Matthew smiled against her pale throat. "You, Mary Crawley, are merciless. Andromeda naked and chained to a rock? You told that story on purpose just to tease me!"

Matthew pressed light kisses to her jaw and neck, and Mary tilted her head to allow him full access.

"Why, Matthew, how dare you accuse a Lady of such behaviour?" she said mockingly. "I thought you would be impressed by my knowledge of Greek mythology. After all, you read me that story yourself," she purred as he ran his tongue along her neck and up to her ear.

"Your intelligence and the fact that you are so well read are only two of the many qualities that I find undeniably irresistible about you darling," Matthew whispered between kisses. "But you did not need to paint such a vivid picture in my mind so early into the evening."

Mary betrayed herself by laughing. "I don't see how the tale of Andromeda would make you so uncomfortable, Matthew. After all, you've already seen me naked and tied up, and I seem to recall you enjoyed it immensely."

Matthew groaned, his arousal pressing scandalously against her through their clothing.

"I've seen you almost naked," he clarified. "And you were tied to my bed with silk scarves, not chained to a rock. Besides the fact that it was entirely your idea in the first place."

"Details, details, darling."

They kissed lightly on the lips again before she pushed him away gently. "We need to get back Matthew, before they send someone to look for us. They'll know it won't take this long to find Papa's book."

Matthew sighed, turning and picking up the book as Mary straightened her dress. They walked towards the door hand in hand.

"Remind me why we are pretending to hate each other in front of your family? Surely we can tell them about our past now that Robert himself has invited me here."

"Well not all of it, certainly!" Mary replied with a smile. "Or would you like to regale my Mama with the details of how you seduced me in London while I was engaged to another man?"

"You make it sound far more scandalous than it actually was!" Matthew replied petulantly, taking her into his arms. "It isn't as if I preyed upon you, for heaven's sakes! I have more scruples than that."

"Oh I don't know, Matthew," Mary teased. "There I was in London in winter, an innocent Lady celebrating the holiday traditions with society. How could I have been expected to resist your charms? I was completely at the mercy of such an experienced and dashing lover."

"Experienced?! Neither of us has ever…" Matthew rolled his eyes and sighed at her grinning face. "It is going to be very difficult to scold you in the future when you are well aware of all the ways to keep me under your thumb."

"It's not my thumb that I want you to be under," Mary whispered, smiling again as his face contorted with the effort of restraining his lust.

"All right, maybe not everything about our past, but please Mary, you know I'm not good at these types of games."

"You don't have any regrets, do you?" Matthew swallowed. "About the entail, and Robert bringing me here, and the prospect of spending your life with me?"

Mary kissed him tenderly. "Do shut up. I love you, Matthew. We're going to be together, just as we wished. I don't have any regrets. How could I? I'm going to marry the future Earl of Grantham." She smiled genuinely and kissed him again.

"Darling, I know it's difficult, but please do try, for me," Mary said gently. "They want it to be their idea, you see. It wouldn't do to just run into each other's arms right from the off. They would never expect me to do that, which will make them curious, which will lead to questions. I don't want to have to explain how we already know each other. And I certainly do not want them to know about just how well we know each other. I'm sorry Matthew, but if they knew, their opinion of you would change rather drastically. Just play along, darling. It will only be a few short months, I promise. Then I'll miraculously 'come around' and we can start planning our future. Mama and Granny already want me to marry you, and Papa would be all in favour of it. Everything is coming along perfectly, we just need to play it out."

"I've missed you, darling," Matthew sighed.

"I've missed you too," Mary replied. "After everything we've been through to now have everything we could ever want. Matthew, I will make it all up to you, I promise." She kissed him quickly. "Matthew, you do understand that all of what I said in there was for show, don't you?"

"You mean the part about me being a sea monster or the part about me not being your type of people?"

Mary cringed. "Yes, all of that. I'm sorry, Matthew. You know I can get carried away sometimes. You are exactly my kind of man, and so much more."

He smiled and they kissed again chastely. "You will need to keep reminding me, I'm afraid."

"Challenge accepted. Come on, let's go." She kissed him again and they left the library.

When they returned to the Great Hall, Robert and Isobel were talking, the driver standing at attention outside next to the car. Sybil was standing to the side with Edith and Cora.

"Ah, there you are, Matthew. Mary took care of you did she?"

"I found the book, yes," Matthew said nonchalantly.

Matthew turned and bowed to Cora, before saying goodbye to Edith and Sybil. Robert shook his hand firmly and smiled to him.

"We'll be seeing much more of you very soon, my boy."

"Thank you for everything, Lord Grantham. Yes, I have a great deal to learn."

Matthew went to follow his mother to the car. He stopped in his tracks and looked back, catching Mary's gaze but trying to appear nonplussed.

"Cousin Mary."

"Cousin Matthew," Mary sighed and looked up at the ceiling with a bored expression.

Matthew walked out to the car and went back to Crawley House with his mother. He was quiet the entire ride home, giving his mother short and brief answers as she commented on the events of the evening.

The Crawley family retired once Isobel and Matthew left. Cora scolded Mary again and Robert added his ire. Mary scoffed.

"I don't see what the point is of being nice to him, or to her, when neither of them is of any consequence to us."

"Of no consequence? He is my heir, and he'll be the head of this family someday," Robert answered.

"I'm your eldest daughter! He's a distant cousin that you only met for the first time this summer!"

"Mary, please!" Cora said angrily. "All of you go to bed. We'll talk about it later, if I deem it necessary. You, Mary, will regain your manners in time for our next dinner with Cousin Isobel and Cousin Matthew!"

Mary rolled her eyes and stomped up the stairs. Edith smiled and Sybil shook her head.

"I'm ringing for Anna. Don't even think about trying to get her to come to you first," Mary hissed at Edith as she closed her door behind her.

Mary pulled the cord then went and sat down at her vanity. She looked at her reflection as she removed her earrings. She could not help but smile. She pressed her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes, remembering the touch of Matthew's mouth against hers. She could not suppress her grin even as Anna arrived.

"You look rather pleased with yourself," Anna said. "Did the dinner with your new cousins go well?"

"Not at all," Mary huffed. "She's nice enough, but he's very full of himself."

"So why are you smiling then?"

"Oh it has nothing to do with tonight's dinner. Nothing at all. I've just been thinking about something else."


	2. Chapter 2

**Previously:**

**Downton Abbey, England, September 1912**

"You look rather pleased with yourself," Anna said. "Did the dinner with your new cousins go well?"

"Not at all," Mary huffed. "She's nice enough but he's very full of himself."

"So why are you smiling then?"

"Oh it has nothing to do with tonight's dinner. Nothing at all. I've just been thinking about something else."

**Chapter 2:**

**London, England, July 1911**

"Matthew! Wait! Would you just stop and listen!"

"To what?" he turned and snarled at Mary. "What possible explanation could you offer for…for _that_?" His arm cut through the air, pointing back down the hall before falling to his side.

"He pulled me into the conservatory! I didn't invite him there!" Mary said indignantly.

"But you didn't protest, did you? No, you were rather pleased that a Duke lusted after you, I'm sure," Matthew retorted.

"Don't be ridiculous! It is perfectly acceptable for me to receive invitations. I am here for my Season, after all. Did you expect me to live like a nun for two months?"

"Oh, I would never ask you to ignore your duty, Lady Mary," Matthew grunted, looking up at the ceiling before glaring back at her. "I'm sure your dance card is full of tremendous gentlemen, each one with more grander prospects than the next."

"Argh, you're being impossible!"

"Did you expect me to stand idly by and watch? To do nothing, to _feel_ nothing while you flirted and danced with all of these pathetic spoiled prats with their pompous airs and raised noses?" His eyes were angry but there was a hint of something else behind them.

"What do you want from me, Matthew? What?! Tell me! Tell me what to do then, if you have all the answers!" Mary spat back. "Do you want me to march back to Grantham House, introduce you formally and tell my parents that we're running off together? Will that satisfy you?"

Matthew frowned in frustration and looked away.

"I can't believe you! This is my debut Season, Matthew! Do you understand how much that means to my family? I've been preparing for this for years! Years! And here you are expecting me to ignore all of that and to what? Reject every invitation I may receive all because of your petty jealousy?"

Matthew's eyes sparked with rage. "Did you enjoy it?" he demanded, looking fiercely at her.

"What are you talking about?" she asked in shock.

"Did you enjoy it?" his voice was cold and even. "Did you enjoy feeling his hands on you? Did you enjoy how he forced you into his kiss? Did you enjoy that bastard leering at you like some toy that belonged to him?"

Mary swallowed, her pulse quickening as her anger and exasperation consumed her and flared. She took a breath before responding.

"No," she admitted, her voice quiet and equally cold. "I didn't enjoy it. It felt wrong."

"Why?" Matthew stepped towards her until there was barely a breath's distance between them. "Tell me why it felt wrong."

Mary closed her eyes, then opened them and stared back as her vision was filled with a deep blue that she knew so well. His eyes were clouded over in a look that she could now easily recognize. It was not a look of anger. It was a look she imagined he reserved only for her.

"It was wrong because his hands felt strange, his lips were cold and clammy, his stare felt lecherous and disgusting," she said finally.

Mary's tongue involuntarily reached out and wet her lips. Matthew's eyes widened as he watched her, his mouth partly open, before he pulled his gaze back to her eyes. The deep brown of her eyes were dark with an emotion that he knew mirrored his own.

"Why?" he breathed, the word barely a whisper now, his anger quelled and replaced by a heat of a different kind.

"Because," Mary replied, her voice catching in her throat. "Because he wasn't you."

Matthew's restraint broke and he embraced her. Mary's hands flew to his back and neck, meeting his lips ardently with her own. His kiss was passionate, but his touch was warm and soft, his tongue inviting as hers lingered upon it. They both had tried to keep their distance, he with his clients and her with her Season. It was futile.

They finally came apart, breathing deeply as they held each other close.

"I can't," Matthew cringed, upset at his own weakness. "I can't stand seeing you with…with _them_. I know I have no right, Mary, and I only want what's best for you, but I…"

"Shh," she said softly, placing her fingers on his lips. "In another place, in another time, Matthew, you know that I would be yours gladly. Let's just take the time we have left, darling, please. Can you do that for me?"

"Of course. Anything, Mary," he replied.

It was wrong. It would only hurt both of them to prolong this charade. It would make their inevitable parting in a few weeks' time even more heartbreaking. But as he kissed her again, and as her hands went into his blond hair, the moment they shared was as it had often been between them since they first met. They were happy.

**Downton Abbey, England, September 1912**

Mary blew out the candle on her nightstand and lay back among the pillows. Her Mama's words echoed in her mind just as the memory of Matthew's kisses during her Season, and just this evening in the library lingered so clearly.

"_I believe there's an answer which would secure your future and give you a position."_ Cora told her.

Mary smiled widely and covered her mouth as she broke into a fit of muffled giggles. Her future as Matthew's wife and Countess of Grantham. She closed her eyes, her smile still on her lips. It was too perfect to be believed.

**Downton Abbey, England, October 1912**

Mary walked down the upstairs hall with Edith next to her and Sybil trailing behind. She picked out her outfit specifically for the occasion. She was permitted to wear some colours again as she was no longer in full mourning for Patrick. Being able to wear grey instead of just black was a Godsend. Matthew had never seen her wear this type of hat before and she hoped he would be intrigued. He was the only man she had ever known who seemed to notice any little change – if she cut her hair even an inch shorter, he would note it; if she had a new frock, he seemed to comment on it before even her sisters did. She smiled at the thought of seeing him once again.

"Why must we all go to the hospital?" Edith asked, waking Mary from her reverie.

"It's the announcement of Cousin Isobel's new position, of course," Sybil volunteered.

"I'm afraid Papa wants to teach Granny a lesson. Poor Granny. A month ago, these people were strangers. Now she must share power with the mother and I must marry the son," Mary replied.

"You won't marry him, though, will you?" Edith asked, looking at Mary questioningly.

'_Of course I will!'_ Mary's mind screamed. But she could not say anything yet. Matthew had just arrived and her plan had just been hatched. Mary debated telling her sisters the truth in confidence but quickly dismissed the thought. Sybil would not betray her but she could never trust Edith with anything. Smiling wryly at her sister, she kept her indifferent façade.

"What, marry a sea monster?" They laughed together.

"We shouldn't laugh. That's so unkind," Sybil reprimanded them.

Mary swallowed as they descended the stairs. It was unkind. It was downright unfair. Matthew did not deserve her ire, even if it was all an act. _'I'll make it up to him,'_ she vowed. She found herself making that promise many times in the past month since his arrival.

"But he must marry someone," Edith said nonchalantly, again interrupting Mary's thoughts of Matthew.

"Edith, what are you thinking?" Mary asked with a bit more curiosity than she wanted to show.

"You know, I don't dislike him as much as you do."

'_What the hell is that supposed to mean? You daft twit, he's taken! He's mine!'_ Mary's mind reeled once again. She stayed composed and decided to explore this train of thought Edith put out.

"Perhaps you don't dislike him at all," Mary suggested guardedly.

"Perhaps I don't," Edith answered smugly.

Mary rolled her eyes. This was ridiculous. First, Edith pined for Patrick, Mary's secret fiancé who Mary herself barely cared for beyond him being her cousin. Now, Edith had set her sights on the man Mary actually did care for, but pretended not to? She should have quashed Edith's aspirations on the spot, but she could not think of how to do so without revealing her actual feelings for Matthew.

"Well, it's nothing to me. I have bigger fish to fry," she said indifferently, her stomach fluttering at yet another false statement about Matthew.

"What fish?" Sybil asked innocently.

'_Damn. What fish? What fish indeed?_' Mary could care less what other fish were out there. Her biggest catch had landed right in her lap when she thought he had gotten away. Thanks to Matthew, she didn't need to bother with the Duke of Crowborough's of the world any longer. She struggled trying to think of a name that would placate her sisters but that she would not need to actually pursue.

"Are we talking about E.N.?" Edith asked.

'_Evelyn! Perfect,'_ Mary thought.

"How do you know that? Have you been poking around in my things?" Mary accused her sister.

"Of course not!" Edith defended herself. Mary knew it was a lie, but it was fortuitous just the same.

"Come on, who is he? It's not fair if you both know," Sybil whined.

"You won't be any the wiser, but his name is Evelyn Napier."

"The Honourable Evelyn Napier, son and heir of the Viscount Branksome."

Mary smiled, which her sisters of course mistook for some proof of her feelings for Evelyn. _'Let them think that,'_ Mary thought, which made her smirk even more. Evelyn Napier – a gentleman, a nobleman, exactly the type of man that her sisters and family would expect her to encourage. His letters were flattering enough, but he was more suited to be a friend than a lover and husband. He would have been in the running back months ago, and she had enjoyed some pleasant conversation with him during the summer and winter in London, but Evelyn could not impress her now even if he was the Prince of Wales.

"Who wants an old sea monster when they can have Perseus?" Mary laughed to her sisters as they reached the Great Hall and walked towards the door. It was hardly Mary's fault if her sisters incorrectly assumed which man was actually playing which role in Mary's story.

**Downton Village Hospital, England, October 1912**

Mary fell into step with Matthew as they filed out of the hospital. She knew that others would be watching them so she had to be careful.

"Papa says he's invited you to dinner tonight," she began.

"He has. Will you be there?" he responded, keeping his gaze facing forward so it would not appear as though they were speaking closely.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" she replied, looking up at the sky.

"Oh I don't know. I assumed you'd find something better to hold your interest," he smirked.

"Perhaps I will. Nevertheless, I can still dine with my family. Having you there won't deter me. Besides, it's your mother's day of glory, so Papa will want me to be there with everyone else." She dared to look at him now. They were walking next to each other and surely even if she was pretending to hate him, she could still be polite and engage him in conversation, she reasoned.

"I thought Cousin Violet would want to keep us away from the Big House tonight while she battened down the hatches," Matthew said evenly.

Mary held her smile back as best she could, but glared at him. He wasn't supposed to be so charming in public. Or, at the very least, he wasn't supposed to be charming enough to affect her.

"Yes, well Granny would rather keep her enemies close than openly move against them. To do so would show weakness, as if she actually cared about them, you see."

"Ah," Matthew nodded.

"What time will you be arriving?" Mary asked quietly.

"Any time I suppose. My afternoon is clear."

"The weather seems to be cooling. I may spend the afternoon in the library before dressing for dinner," she said, looking away from him.

"Is that where you like to shield yourself from prying eyes?" Matthew asked, also looking away.

"Yes," Mary replied. "I find it can be a fortress when necessary."

"I've never seen you wear a hat like that before," Matthew said. Stealing a glance at her, he whispered. "It looks very fetching on you."

Mary blushed as she turned away from his gaze. "Thank you," she replied without looking at him. "I was hoping you would notice."

He smiled and touched the brim of his hat to her. He walked on ahead, catching up to his mother.

As Mary got into the waiting motor, her mother turned to her.

"What were you discussing with Cousin Matthew?"

"Oh nothing," Mary rolled her eyes. "I was hoping he would say he had something come up to keep him from joining us for dinner, but he seems to have disappointed me yet again, not surprisingly."

"Your Papa invited him. What else would he have to do?"

"Well it is Cousin Isobel's special day after all. I assumed he would go celebrate at a pub or whatever it is the middle class do for entertainment."

Edith laughed and even Sybil giggled.

"I see your manners have not improved with regard to Cousin Matthew," Cora said, shaking her head.

"I don't see why they needed to improve in the first place," Mary replied casually. "Mama, I'm at least speaking to him in public. That should count as a victory to you."

**Downton Abbey, England, October 1912**

Mary scanned the books on the shelf in front of her, glancing over to the door every few minutes. She was growing impatient when she saw the knob turn slowly. Matthew stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Mary pretended to be engrossed with the books in front of her. Matthew stepped towards her quietly, and she smiled as he neared.

"I hadn't seen the small library before," he said.

"Yes, it's quieter here, more private. The servants tend not to come in," she replied, not taking her eyes off the shelves in front of her.

"I could see how that would have its benefits," he said, stealing a glance across her body. She had removed her hat from earlier and her hair was still pinned neatly. Matthew smiled at the memory of helping her remove the pins from her hair and seeing it cascade around her shoulders.

"Indeed. At the right time of day, or later in the evening, one can escape here for an hour or more and no one would be the wiser."

Matthew smiled, unable to stop himself. Mary turned and reached for him and he was quickly beside her. They kissed softly, their urgency held in check.

"We must be quiet," Mary whispered, a grin spreading across her face to match Matthew's. "No one comes here, but it's possible someone could see each of us going in here and not coming out."

"Then we'll need to be as discrete as possible," Matthew breathed, each word punctuated by a kiss to Mary's lips, cheek and neck.

"Don't mark me!" she warned, allowing him the full length of her neck. "I won't be able to explain it."

"You were rather ingenious in explaining the love bite I gave you during the summer. What did you call it? An allergic reaction to a mosquito?"

Mary laughed warmly at the thought. "There are no mosquitoes here in the autumn, and everyone knows I've been indoors all afternoon!"

Matthew pulled back and they both immediately regretted the lost closeness. Matthew picked a book off the shelf randomly and went and sat down. Mary did the same and took a chair to the side of him, allowing her to see the door as they sat.

"How are you?" she asked genuinely. They had not spoken very much at all since their 'argument' over dinner weeks ago. She had wracked her brain trying to find a way for them to meet in private, but could not formulate a plan without involving one of the servants, or risking discovery. The small library was not ideal, but it would do.

"I'm doing all right, I suppose," Matthew grumbled, keeping his gaze on his book to maintain the illusion that they were reading separately. "I'm trying to use Molesley more often, give him something to do."

Mary smiled as she turned a page she had not bothered to read. "My, my, becoming rather settled in our new position aren't we?"

Matthew shook his head, but kept his gaze firmly on his book. "Well, Cousin Robert is right. We all have our parts to play and far be it from me to deny Molesley his ambition as a valet."

After several more minutes of conversation, Mary closed her book and rose with a sigh. "I should go. The dressing gong will be sounding soon and they'll be looking for me. You should go and find Papa. He'll want to tell you more about the Estate, I'm sure."

"I'd rather listen to you talk about it," Matthew said softly, earning him a smile from Mary as she turned to leave.

"Mary," Matthew whispered, causing her to turn and look at him. "Can we use this room again?"

"Of course," Mary smiled. "That's why I suggested it. Mama usually takes tea in the afternoons and sometimes takes Edith and Sybil along with her to Dower House or to one of the neighbours. I can usually beg out of it, so long as I make an appearance from time to time. If you can get here after work, Papa will usually be occupied. Tell Carson you'll wait for Papa in the library, and that will give us a few moments alone."

"A few moments," Matthew said dejectedly.

"You were hoping for hours to ourselves?" Mary asked teasingly.

"The hope did cross my mind, yes," Matthew admitted.

"Well I can't very well devote my time to you without an explanation. It makes no sense for two people who don't like each other to spend time together."

"Oh I don't know about that," Matthew smiled at her. "I think Matthew Crawley, heir presumptive to the Earl of Grantham could be convinced to not hate you as much as you think."

Mary smiled. "Then that shall be your task, Matthew. Yes, I think you putting in the effort to try to win me over would work quite nicely actually."

"Challenge accepted."

Mary blew him a kiss then left the small library, walking quickly from the larger library so they would not be seen leaving close together. She ran into Bates as she came into the Great Hall.

"Ah, Bates. Cousin Matthew is in the library. Apparently he was looking for Papa. Could you go and find his Lordship, please? You know I would hate to do any favours for Cousin Matthew."

"Of course, Milady," Bates nodded. Mary walked away, a smirk coming to her lips.


	3. Chapter 3

**Previously:**

**Downton Abbey, England, October 1912**

"Well I can't very well devote my time to you without an explanation. It makes no sense for two people who don't like each other to spend time together."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Matthew smiled at her. "I think Matthew Crawley, heir presumptive to the Earl of Grantham, could be convinced to not hate you as much as you think."

Mary smiled. "Then that shall be your task, Matthew. Yes, I think you putting in the effort to try to win me over would work quite nicely actually."

"Challenge accepted."

Mary blew him a kiss then left the small library, walking quickly from the larger library so they would not be seen leaving close together. She ran into Bates as she came into the Great Hall.

"Ah, Bates. Cousin Matthew is in the library. Apparently he was looking for Papa. Could you go and find his Lordship, please? You know I would hate to do any favours for Cousin Matthew."

"Of course, Milady," Bates nodded. Mary walked away, a smirk coming to her lips.

**Chapter 3:**

**Painswick House, Eaton Square, London, England, November 1911**

"Remind me whose home we are invading again, exactly?" Matthew asked his companion.

"Don't be so middle class, Matthew. For once you're at an aristocrat's home as an invited guest, rather than when you were at that Baron's home in Manchester working as the help," Alex replied.

"I was 16! Will you never let me forget that story?"

"You have been cursed by my photographic memory."

"A memory that seems to forget that you're the one who got me that catering job in the first place," Matthew pointed out petulantly.

"If you weren't so hell bent on financing the purchase of that cricket bat, you wouldn't have needed the job, and I would never have been the wiser," Alex said smugly.

"I am not having this conversation again."

The two young men nodded to the valet who took their coats and scarves and they immediately headed to the bar. Finishing their first drink, they scanned the room for their client.

"When did you say he would be arriving?" Matthew asked.

"He should be here already. We were to meet in this room at a quarter past eight," Alex answered, looking around the room casually.

"It's eight-twenty now."

"My clients are notable by the size of their problems and their even larger chequebooks, Matthew. Being impeccably on time is optional under such circumstances."

"Ah, there you are! Alex! Matthew!" A voice called out to them.

They turned and smiled as an older nobleman greeted each of them with a vigorous handshake.

"Gentlemen! So good to see both of you this evening!" he said in his deep baritone.

"Our pleasure, Viscount Branksome," Alex replied. "Matthew was desperate to leave Manchester. The winter has not been kind thus far."

"Oh, indeed. Indeed. I wanted the both of you to meet my son Evelyn; he's around here somewhere," Viscount Branksome said, looking this way and that.

"It's a lovely home," Matthew noted.

"Oh, yes, it is. Yes, it is. It belongs to Lady Rosamund Painswick. She was dear friends with my late wife of course. She always hosts a grand affair during the winter. She prefers it to the garden parties during the Summer Season; something about it being easier to keep the insects away and the fires roaring, and such."

They wandered the room with Viscount Branksome, ostensibly to look for his son. However, the search quickly became a series of introductions to his old friends, the telling of war stories, and, much to Alex's delight, a number of referrals for work.

"I had no idea that estate planning was so important," a clueless Baron asked him quizzically.

"Well it isn't important if you would rather leave your fortune to His Majesty rather than to your children," Alex mused. "The truth of the matter is that no one pays particular attention to it until it's rather too late, I'm afraid."

"Intriguing," an unknown Earl replied. "And you specialize in this type of work, Mr. Lewis?"

"My law firm does, yes," Alex answered confidently. "I like to keep the pulse of a number of areas – estate planning, company law, litigation. I find I rather enjoy a good argument, regardless of the subject matter."

Matthew was enjoying himself so much he didn't care if they never found Evelyn Napier. Following Viscount Branksome about the ballroom was proving both entertaining and lucrative. He wondered if moving his practice to London would not do him a world of good. It would put him closer to Alex, and benefit from all of his connections. Then again, it would also put him further away from Yorkshire, he thought wryly. He shook himself at the idea. His proximity to Yorkshire was hardly a valid consideration. What was the use of thinking of…

"Lady Mary Crawley."

Matthew's eyes widened upon hearing her name. He looked up suddenly and saw Viscount Branksome speaking to another older gentleman.

"Of course, you know her, don't you, Julian? That's the eldest daughter of the Earl of Grantham. His wife, Cora, was very good friends with Beatrice. Lady Grantham is from America, you know? Yes, Robert went over there, found her, and brought her back like some cavalier from the Middle Ages!" Viscount Branksome's deep laugh would have made Matthew smile if he wasn't suddenly very nervous.

"Evelyn seems rather taken with Lady Mary," Julian noted as they both looked somewhere over Matthew's shoulder.

Matthew suddenly became very engrossed in his drink as he looked to his left and tried to peer to the side as he brought the glass to his lips.

He saw Mary out of the corner of his eye. She was a vision. She wore a navy blue dress and her hair was pinned up perfectly, accessorized by a diamond barrette. She was listening demurely to the conversation of a rather handsome young man standing before her.

'_That must be Evelyn Napier,'_ Matthew thought. As he looked at the picture of the two of them, he felt a slight pain in his chest. They looked very well matched, he thought dejectedly. Evelyn looked like a nobleman; there was no other way to describe him. Perfect suit, perfect hair, perfect teeth, and from the looks of the way he smiled as he spoke to Mary, a perfect suitor.

"Yes, he writes to her, you know," Viscount Branksome said with a strange sadness to his voice. "It's a shame that nothing will ever come of it."

"Why do you say that? If you don't mind my asking, my Lord," Alex interjected.

"Oh, not at all, Alex. Well, you didn't hear it from me, but Lady Mary is already spoken for. Robert intends to wed her to Patrick Crawley at the end of next year."

Matthew almost choked on his drink. He struggled to catch his breath. He caught Alex's gaze, and his friend was looking at him with an amused expression.

"James' boy? Why that would be a rather fine match indeed," Julian replied.

"Robert and James certainly think so. It's all very secret you see. Nothing is official yet. Lady Mary made her debut last summer of course, and was quite popular in fact from what I am told. If she receives a better offer, Robert would consider it possibly, but just the same he and James are making plans to protect the Grantham Estate. Only a handful of people are even aware of this understanding. I wanted to deter Evelyn from pursuing a fruitless exercise, but I can't betray any confidences, of course."

"Fair enough. She and Evelyn appear rather well matched, but if Robert and James need to protect the Estate, then of course she needs to do her duty."

The two men nodded in agreement. Matthew looked at the floor, trying desperately to mask his chagrin and ire at this new revelation.

"Viscount Branksome, it has been a pleasure," Alex bowed. "It appears your son is otherwise indisposed at the moment. Matthew and I would be pleased to meet him another time. I'm afraid we have some rather boring lawyer business to discuss, so we'll wish all of you a very good night."

"Always a pleasure, Alex. I believe we have dinner scheduled for next week, do we not? You are joining me for the races beforehand aren't you? Splendid! Matthew, good to see you. Safe travels back to Manchester. Keep up the good work."

"Thank you, your Lordship," Matthew mumbled. They all shook hands before Alex practically dragged Matthew away and back to the bar.

Matthew finished his drink without a care for how it looked to anyone else. He rounded on Alex and glared at him.

"You knew!" he snarled. "You knew she would be here and that's why you arranged all of this!"

"I don't have the faintest clue what you are talking about," Alex answered calmly, his face annoyingly serene. "Just as I had no clue that Lady Mary would be coming to a party hosted at her aunt's house."

"Her aunt!?"

"Lady Rosamund Painswick. She's the sister of Robert Crawley, Earl of Grantham. Didn't you know?" Alex smiled.

Matthew groaned and turned back to the bar to order another drink. Alex shook his head at the bartender. The bartender acknowledged the instruction and went to assist another guest, leaving Matthew with an empty glass. Alex pushed Matthew to another corner of the room.

"Why did you do this?!" Matthew demanded. "It isn't enough to tease me on a regular basis, now you would add torture to your list of favourite pastimes as well?"

"The only thing I am doing is helping you open your eyes," Alex replied, all playfulness gone from his tone.

"To what? To the fact that the woman I love lives in a world where I clearly don't belong and is surrounded by suitors who could probably buy and sell me ten times over? Oh yes, thank you for enlightening me."

"No. Rather to the fact that if you don't get your arse moving, Lady Mary will end up betrothed to another man and you will have to forget her forever," Alex answered.

"What would you have me do?" Matthew said angrily, trying to keep his voice low. "Throw her over my shoulder and drag her back to my cave in Manchester? You of all people know how hard it was for me to say goodbye to her last summer! She's engaged, Alex! You heard Viscount Branksome! Her family already has a match lined up for her! It's too late. It was too late before it even began!"

"Have you heard of the Grantham Family Trust, Matthew?"

"The what? No. Do I even want to know what that is?" Matthew asked, exasperated now.

"Many nobles establish a family trust to hold certain assets, generally cash and sometimes small properties that are not otherwise encumbered, for the benefit of their children. Usually the trust is only accessible when the beneficiary reaches the age of majority, or in the case of women, when they marry," Alex stated as a teacher might speak to a slow pupil.

"Yes, I've heard of such instruments. I would not be surprised if the Earl of Grantham established one for Mary, Edith, and Sybil as well. What does that matter?"

"How it matters, Matthew, is that even though Lady Mary cannot inherit her family Estate, she will nonetheless stand to inherit a significant sum when she does wed," Alex said.

"How do you know the details of Mary's settlement?" Matthew asked, frowning.

"Because I drafted it."

Matthew's mouth opened in silent shock.

"The Trust was recently amended, and I assisted a lawyer here in London with some of the finer details that he couldn't write himself. It wasn't particularly difficult, actually, when you know how to properly structure these things."

"What difference does that make? I'm not interested in Mary for her money. Do you think me a fortune hunter?" Matthew asked tersely.

"I think you utterly useless, but that doesn't stop me from being your friend," Alex replied, not missing a beat. "From where I stand, the only difference between you and any of Lady Mary's supposed suitors is a title and money. A title you cannot get very easily unfortunately, but the money aspect of it, and in turn your ability to keep Lady Mary in the lifestyle she is accustomed to, is more within your grasp than you realize."

"I don't see how any of this helps. Surely the Earl of Grantham will look very angrily upon any young man seeking to court his daughter with no prospects of his own."

"That would be an issue if you had no prospects, and if you intended to court the Earl of Grantham, rather than his daughter. It seems to me that the only person you need to convince is Lady Mary, and you were well on your way to doing that this past summer if your misplaced sense of honour had not intervened."

"It's a fool's errand," Matthew muttered, looking back across the room as Mary and Edith were now speaking to three other young ladies and Evelyn Napier had disappeared. "What right do I have to take her away from all of this? I can't offer her anything of value, Alex. I can't ask her to marry me and use her settlement to support us. She deserves more than that. I can't ask her to break off her engagement for me."

"First, you would be surprised how many of the Peerage rely upon their wives' fortunes. Second, it would be a rather easy thing to break an engagement that is not official, has not been announced and for all intents and purposes, does not exist," Alex suggested. "You heard what Viscount Branksome said, Matthew. Lady Mary's engagement is only an idea. A contingency plan, call it. So long as it is not official, it can be changed, or ignored."

When Matthew did not reply and continued to stare at Mary across the room, Alex sighed. "Matthew, I can only show you a path. It is you who must pursue it. But I would think a man rather stupid to willingly give up the love of his life because he thinks himself unworthy when compared to a complete stranger. After all, Matthew, you do not determine the measure of a man. Lady Mary does. And I would think you a coward if you didn't at least fight until you received her answer."

Matthew turned back to Alex, looking rather confused and speechless.

Alex patted Matthew on the shoulder and left him to go greet another client.

**Downton Abbey, England, November 1912**

"I would very much like you to accompany us, Matthew."

Matthew paused before looking up at Robert. "That's very generous," he said carefully.

"I'm sure Matthew must be busy, Papa," Mary pointed out. "He does have a job that keeps him occupied, after all. Taking time out to come to London for the Winter Season is hardly on his list of priorities." Her voice was tinged with condescension.

Matthew turned to her and his eyes narrowed. Their exchanges were not as bitter as back in September. To the rest of the family, it seemed that Matthew had graduated to the same level as Edith when it came to barbs from Mary.

"Can't you take any time away from the office, Matthew?" Cora stepped in quickly. "London during the winter is so much fun, and it would be a wonderful opportunity for you to meet some of our friends."

Matthew smiled and nodded towards Cora. "Yes, I shall find the time, Cousin Cora." He turned back to Robert. "Thank you, Cousin. I will try not to embarrass you."

Robert laughed. "You'll do just fine, Matthew. I am certain of it."

"Won't they miss you at your office in Ripon though? How will they manage without you?" Mary asked, ignoring the frown from her Mama.

Matthew turned to her and stared her down. "They'll make do, I'm sure. How could I possibly in good conscience pass up the opportunity for you to show me London Society at its festive best, Cousin Mary? I've been rather looking forward to meeting all of your friends, and to be introduced to them, _formally_."

His emphasis on that last word escaped everyone's notice but hers. Mary's eyes widened before she quickly looked down at her plate. Edith and Sybil smiled at each other. It was rather fun to see Mary put in her place, and they learned over the past months that Cousin Matthew was fearless when it came to attempting to do so.

They all resumed eating, Matthew's witty rebuttal still hanging in the air.

"You'll enjoy London, Matthew," Robert beamed. "During the holidays, the City is simply brilliant."

**Painswick House, Eaton Square, London, England, November 1911**

"That dress is stunning, Mary."

"Thank you, Charlotte," Mary replied as the party continued to buzz around them. "It arrived just in time last week."

"Edith, getting any ideas? It is your Season next summer and you'll need a number of outfits."

"No, Ellen. I've decided to ignore everything until March at least."

"Don't believe a word she says," Mary teased. "She's probably taking notes on every gown in this room."

Edith glared at her sister.

"Edith, let's go find Rebecca. It's her Season next summer as well of course. The two of you can share ideas!" Lady Cheryl pulled Edith gently by the arm, looking back at Mary and Charlotte with a frown.

Mary and Charlotte gave Cheryl their best fake smiles before resuming their conversation.

"Mary, I couldn't help notice that you were having a rather animated conversation with Evelyn Napier earlier."

"He was rather animated, at least," Mary replied drily. "It was actually rather boring. He was talking about some foreign affairs work that he was doing."

Charlotte's gaze travelled across the room. "Who is that? Does your aunt have a new footman, Mary? I don't remember that fellow from last year's party."

"Charlotte, don't be so rude! Can't you tell from the cut of his tails? He isn't the help," Lady Katharine chastised her.

"You mean he's a guest? Well whoever is he?"

"That's Alexander Lewis," Katharine replied. "He's the lawyer for Viscount Branksome, among others here. I've seen him at a number of events in fact, even during the last Season. He seems to know everyone."

Mary frowned as she sipped her drink. Alexander Lewis. She had heard that name before but could not place it.

"A lawyer? He seems rather young," Charlotte answered.

"He has a practice in London. He's apparently quite brilliant. Mama told me that he helped Viscount Branksome with a court matter a year ago and since then he's been working for everyone. He's here with a colleague in fact. I saw them talking to Viscount Branksome and Papa earlier. His colleague is quite handsome, actually, for a lawyer that is," Katharine laughed. "Ellen, what was his name? The other lawyer?"

"Funny enough, it's the same family name as yours, Mary," Ellen replied. "Crawley. Yes, Matthew Crawley."

Mary coughed as she almost choked on her drink. "Matthew?!" she exclaimed before composing herself.

"Yes, Matthew," Ellen repeated obliviously. "Matthew Crawley. Do you know him?"

"No, of course not. I've never heard of him. George Murray is our family solicitor. He's the only lawyer that I know," Mary said quickly.

"Ladies, if you'll excuse me, I must find my Mama. I forgot to talk to her about our dinner plans this weekend," Mary declared as she walked away briskly.

"Strange," Ellen said, looking in the direction where Mary had disappeared to. "Lady Grantham is right over there," motioning to the opposite side of the room.

Mary walked quickly down the hallway. She felt she could not breathe and she needed to get away from the crowd of the party so she could think properly. Matthew was here? How? Why? She knew her Aunt Rosamund was well connected and that all manner of business was conducted at these parties, but for Matthew to come all the way from Manchester to this party in particular? Whatever for?

She escaped into the parlour and closed the door behind her. The lights were low to deter anyone from using this part of the house during the party. Mary leaned back against the door and sighed. "Oh, Matthew."

"At your service."

Mary nearly jumped out of her skin. She closed her hand around her mouth to stop herself from shrieking. Matthew rose from a chair by the window and stepped into the light, his hands rubbing together. He always fidgeted when he was nervous, she remembered.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed.

He stopped and stood still, trying to keep a comfortable distance between them.

"Entertaining clients. I had no idea you would be here, or that this was your aunt's house, I assure you. Alex organized the entire thing."

"Well I suppose it merely a strange coincidence then," Mary replied, not quite sure if she was disappointed or relieved that Matthew had not come to the party specifically to find her.

"You seem to be popular, as always," Matthew said evenly, searching for some subject to keep them talking so he wouldn't stare at her body as much. "I saw you chatting with Viscount Branksome's son."

"Yes. Well, Evelyn is a friend of the family."

"And have you had anyone else call on you since you've been in London?" Matthew asked, not entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"No one of consequence," Mary replied quickly. "And Evelyn hasn't called on me, specifically. We knew that Aunt Rosamund invited his family to the party, but that's all."

"Well he looks like he would very much enjoy paying a call to you," Matthew said, regretting how scornful his voice sounded. Mary remained silent, looking down at the floor.

"Where's Patrick?" he asked, changing the subject, although belatedly thinking that he perhaps had not selected the most appropriate segue way.

Mary's eyes shot back up at him and went wide in shock. "How do you know about him?"

Matthew shook his head. "I don't know anything about him. I just heard his name, that's all." He looked up and met Mary's eyes. "Something about him being the son of your father's cousin, and that there is an understanding regarding your future, and his."

"How could you know about…" Mary rolled her eyes and sighed. "I don't know what you've heard but it's simply an idea for now. Nothing's official. Papa and Mama are obsessed with finding matches for us and Patrick's always been…around, as it were. He is the heir to the Grantham Estate, so he'll be the head of our family one day."

"And what do you think of this idea?" Matthew asked softly, daring to step closer to her.

"I haven't paid it much attention, to be honest," Mary replied, stepping forward herself. "It seems somewhat far away. Patrick and Cousin James are going to America in the Spring. I suppose I won't need to think seriously about him until he returns. He hasn't asked me, if that's what you're wondering."

The thought of Mary and this unknown man caused Matthew to swallow as his mouth had run dry. He did not like where this conversation had turned and he tried to back track and steer it elsewhere.

"I must admit that I've rather enjoyed myself tonight. I've had a wonderful time mingling with the Viscounts and Earls and Barons. It's almost as if I belong here." Matthew smiled. Mary could not help but smile along with him, before she steeled herself and resumed her neutral expression.

"Almost, but not quite," she said pointedly. "The fact is, Matthew, you aren't a Viscount, or an Earl, or a Baron. And you aren't what Patrick is - the heir to my family's Estate. When this party ends, you won't be able to invite yourself back, or call upon any of us. You'll go back to Manchester, back to your life." She knew it sounded cruel, but she needed to be fierce in this moment, to try and guard against her resolve failing her in his presence once again.

Matthew breathed as he took another step closer, undeterred by her reply. If she wanted to turn him away again, he would not do her work for her. Alex was right. He needed to fight, if only so he could have a few more moments with her.

"But I am here, with you, right now."

Mary swallowed. "Yes, you are." He was right there, with her, now; and he looked gorgeous.

"So if this is to be my last taste of London Society before I am banished back to my exile in Manchester, I would be a fool to not indulge myself as much as possible, wouldn't I?" His eyes darted boldly across her body, and Mary felt warm under his gaze.

"Yes," she whispered. "It would be very foolish indeed to not take advantage of this unique opportunity that fate has given you."

They should have stopped. They should have each walked away. Their minds screamed out how insane it was that two perfectly rational people could behave so brazenly and uninhibited around each other. As her hands framed his face and his arms circled her waist, they both sighed, in resignation and absolute anticipation. Their lips finally met in a familiar and yearning kiss.

They descended to the settee without any real idea how they got there. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders and ran her hands under his vest, feeling his warm skin through his shirt. Their tongues duelled, pulled back, caressed lovingly, then duelled again. She wantonly broke the contact and kissed his face, his neck and nipped at his exposed skin, drawing a moan from him.

Their lips came together again, tasting each other and smiling, smiling widely between their kisses. It was surely wrong for them to be doing this because it felt far too good to be permissible.

Matthew finally pulled away from her lips and held her against him, struggling mightily to control himself. Her hand moved delicately down his body.

"Mary!" he groaned as her touch grew bolder.

She blushed fiercely as she continued undeterred. His hand moved along her side, then around, caressing her through her gown and corset. Mary's arousal blazed delightfully under his fingers.

"Stop, Mary," he gasped.

"I don't want to stop," she answered.

"I don't want to either," he breathed. "But, we must!" Matthew reached down and pulled her hand away from him. They sat there for several moments, holding each other and trying to compose themselves.

"How long are you here in London?" he whispered, kissing her forehead.

"Papa has opened Grantham House for the holidays. We'll be in the City for another week, perhaps two."

"I took holiday from work," he began, chastising himself for his foolishness in voicing this train of thought. "I'm staying at Brown's Hotel in Mayfair. I know its ridiculous Mary, but may I…"

"Yes!" Mary answered immediately, looking up into his eyes. "Oh Matthew, it's very stupid of both of us, but yes, please see me again this week. Everyone expects me to go shopping the rest of our time here. I'll find time to steal away, I promise."

"There's a café across the other side of the park from Grantham House," Matthew said, his hopes rising. "I'll be there tomorrow at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. That should give you time to have luncheon with your family and then take the afternoon for yourself before dinner. If you can make it, please come to me. If not, I'll be waiting for you the next day, and every day after that for the rest of the week."

"I'll be there," Mary said with confidence.

They kissed again and she caressed his cheek with her gloved hand when she rose to leave. He stayed on the couch, watching her as she went to the door. Before she opened it, she looked back at him and they shared a smile. She left and closed the door behind her. Matthew sat back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. He could not stop himself from breaking into a silly grin.

He eventually put himself back together and exited the parlour. When he returned to the ballroom, the party was beginning to thin out. He did not see Mary or any of her family among the remaining guests. He walked over to the bar, and Alex appeared next to him, handing him a drink.

"Club soda with lime," Alex said with a smile.

Matthew gave him a wry smirk. They clinked glasses and sipped in silence. Finally, with Alex looking at him curiously, Matthew rolled his eyes and gave in.

"It makes me angry when you're right," he said ruefully.

"Then you must be full of rage virtually all of the time," Alex replied. "Don't feel too badly, Matthew. I am older and wiser than you."

Matthew gave Alex a knowing look and sipped his drink.

"How is she?"

Matthew lowered his voice, not even wanting to use her name among the crowd. "She is very well, thank you."

"And will you be seeing her again during your stay in London?" Alex smirked.

"I don't know. It's looking promising." Matthew smiled back.

"Well that's an improvement on what it would have been mere hours ago. Come, let's do one more circuit of the room before we make our excuses."


	4. Chapter 4

**Previously:**

**Painswick House, Eaton Square, London, England, November 1911**

"It makes me angry when you're right," he said ruefully.

"Then you must be full of rage virtually all of the time," Alex replied. "Don't feel too badly, Matthew. I am older and wiser than you."

Matthew gave Alex a knowing look and sipped his drink.

"How is she?"

Matthew lowered his voice, not even wanting to use her name among the crowd. "She is very well, thank you."

"And will you be seeing her again during your stay in London?" Alex smirked.

"I don't know. It's looking promising." Matthew smiled back.

"Well that's an improvement on what it would have been mere hours ago. Come, let's do one more circuit of the room before we make our excuses."

**Chapter 4:**

**Grantham House, St. James Square, London, England, November 1912**

Matthew followed Robert as they walked through the upstairs hall overlooking the salon below. The Earl proudly pointed out the various pieces of art that his family had accumulated over time. Matthew looked this way and that, remaining silent as his cousin spoke animatedly. Matthew could scarcely believe he was standing inside the opulent space. In the past, this place stood as a fortress to him, as Mary's home that he could never have access to. Now, he was literally ordained to be the future Lord of this manor.

Robert explained the number of staff they brought with them when they were in London and how often they opened the home during the year.

"Usually if we're here for short trips, we stay at my sister's. I'm sure you've heard of her?" Robert asked as they walked down the stairs to the main floor.

"Yes, Lady Rosamund Painswick. She wrote to me when I first arrived at Downton, welcoming me into the family," Matthew said evenly. "I've also heard of her party during the Winter Season," he added.

"Yes, I imagine that you would have," Robert chuckled. "Rosamund enjoys being the centre of attention, so she holds a lavish winter party each year and is sure to tell all of Society and the media about it, both before and after the fact. She usually comes to Downton for the New Year's Shoot and the Servants' Ball, and for the Garden Party in the summer of course. She's quite proud of her Winter party though."

They finished the tour in the sitting room, where Cora and her daughters were having tea.

"There you boys are," Cora said, smiling. "Matthew, why don't you go and see the neighbourhood? There are some lovely shops and buildings, and Green Park is just outside."

"That's a wonderful idea," Robert agreed. "I have business to attend to in Kensington, but perhaps one of the girls could show you around, Matthew?"

"I can show him," Edith volunteered a bit too quickly. "That is, if you don't mind, Cousin Matthew," she recovered.

Matthew froze, unable to reply at first. He quickly composed himself. "I would not mind at all, Cousin Edith. Thank you."

"Edith," Mary interjected, her voice showing a hint of amusement. "I thought you were going to go shopping with Mama this afternoon?"

"Oh, that's right," Cora said. "We have to look at gowns for you, dear."

"Well, I'm sure it can wait," Edith replied. "We are here for two weeks after all."

"Aunt Rosamund's party is in five days' time, not to mention the Stanley's have invited us to their home in three days. If you think you can find a dressmaker to put something together for you in two days, then go sightseeing with Cousin Matthew all you like," Mary said, becoming suddenly very focused on her nails.

"I forgot all about the Stanley's!" Cora gasped. "Edith, we need to go see Lucile right away!"

"Mama," Edith said impatiently. "Surely, Lady Duff-Gordon won't be able to see me on such short notice. I can wear one of my other gowns."

"She'll make time for us, Edith. She knows we're in London this week and she wrote to me saying to come by whenever we were available."

Edith could only frown in resignation.

"Well, that's unfortunate," Robert sighed.

"I'm sure Sybil can show Cousin Matthew around," Mary suggested, still looking at her nails.

"Nonsense," Robert said. "If anything, Sybil should go with your Mama and Edith."

"That's right," Cora agreed. "Sybil, we may as well start looking at designs for your dresses for the Season while we're here."

Sybil rolled her eyes, which was rather comical considering how little she did that compared to her sisters. "Yes, Mama," she said plainly.

"Well I guess that leaves you, Mary," Robert declared.

"What? Me?" Mary looked up from her nails with a gaze of horror across her face. "But, why? Matthew can walk around perfectly well on his own. He's a grown man, after all, at least as far as we know."

"Mary!" Robert scolded her. "Walk out with Matthew and show him around the neighbourhood. Now. I've made my decision."

Now it was Mary's turn to roll her eyes dramatically. "Fine. I'll have Anna fetch my coat," she mumbled, rising from the sofa and walking past Matthew towards the front hall. Matthew smiled sheepishly and wished everyone else a pleasant day before turning and walking after Mary.

They wandered from St. James Square down through Green Park, keeping their hands to themselves, knowing they could not risk even such casual contact. When it was obvious they were well out of sight of Grantham House, and Mary could not see any passers by glancing in their direction, she turned and slapped Matthew on the arm.

"Ow! Mary!" Matthew cried and grabbed his arm. He smiled at her. "That almost hurt!" he said playfully.

"I would not mind at all, Cousin Edith. Thank you," Mary said in a mocking high-pitched voice. "Why don't we take a delightful little stroll together and get to know one another better?"

Matthew huffed and shook his head. "What would you have me say then? Oh, I'm sorry, Cousin Edith, I do appreciate your kind offer, but I would much rather go out walking with Cousin Mary. You see, I'm hoping to steer her into the park, push her up against a tree and shower her with passionate kisses, and you simply aren't fit for my purposes, Cousin Edith."

Mary smiled in spite of herself as the vivid image flashed in her mind. "Don't you dare try and change the subject, Matthew Crawley. Edith fancies you, and encouraging her will make both of our lives miserable."

"Well then how am I to discourage her, Mary?" Matthew demanded, still trying to make it seem like they were not speaking so closely as they walked. "We're not engaged, or even interested in each other, remember? How would it look if I rejected Edith's invitation and told your parents I would rather you walk out with me instead?"

"You don't need to mention me! Just let Edith down, politely or otherwise. You need to be careful, Matthew. She has big plans for you."

"Then she's in for an equally big disappointment. Mary, this isn't about Edith. All of this would be avoided if you would simply just quit this scheme!"

"You're supposed to be trying to win me over!" Mary shot back. "My parents would be delighted to see such an effort. You saw what happened when I tried to make an excuse just now. Papa ordered me to walk out with you. He still hopes for a happy ending for us. Just take charge of the situation, Matthew, for goodness' sake."

"I have been!" Matthew answered, aware that he was coming very close to whining. "You know very well that I've been nothing short of a perfect gentleman towards you, Mary, and still our supposed relationship in front of your family has not progressed beyond basic pleasantries!"

"I told you, I can't be seen to suddenly change my regard for you so quickly! Everyone knows my position when it comes to you. You're the distant cousin who has come to take away what is rightfully mine, Matthew. I can't just let that go."

"You told me that you didn't care about any of that!" Matthew frowned.

"I don't care about it! Not really. But in front of my parents and the rest of my family, I still care about it!"

"Which _you_ are we talking about now?" Matthew shook his head, thoroughly confused. "You say I need to take charge? I suppose I should just hit you over the head with my club and drag you away then? How do you believe I can be so assertive when you've made it clear to your parents that you aren't going to marry me? I've been trying to win you over, Mary, but you continue to keep me at arm's length because we're following some phantom schedule of when we are supposed to warm to each other! To keep chasing after you despite your constant indifference towards me makes me look like a fool, or an idiot, or both."

"I don't recall keeping you at arm's length in the small library last week," Mary looked at him pointedly.

"That was a different _you_ then, obviously," Matthew responded in equally pointed fashion.

Mary sighed. This was hard, and it was becoming harder the more intricate her scheme was growing. She thought she could begin to be friendlier to Matthew by now, but Edith was constantly reminding her that Matthew was fair game since Mary had shown no interest upon his arrival. Further, she knew her Mama had basically written them off as a possible couple due to Mary's unwavering stance on the entail, meaning a sudden turn in Mary's feelings would look even more suspicious. Mary was beginning to think she should just tell her parents she would marry Matthew and hope that their relief at her capitulation would dissuade them from asking any questions about why she was changing her mind.

"Darling," Mary began, looking not quite at his face but at his shoes as they walked. "I know it's hard, but remember, you're going to be Earl of Grantham someday. You'll be making decisions for all of the family. You can't just let me have my way in front of them now. It will make it seem as if you've given up and that there's no hope for us. Then they'll move on to another plan and Mama and Granny will be parading suitors through the house day and night."

Matthew sighed. "I don't want to command you, Mary, even if it's only make believe. Call me progressive, but I would prefer that my betrothed actually wanted to spend time with me rather than doing it out of a sense of obligation."

"I _do _want to spend time with you! And truth be told, I wouldn't mind spending time with you up against the nearest tree now that you mention it. I'm simply pointing out that you must show some perseverance and determination. This plan only works if they believe that you made me come around despite everything; that you are willing to push past my perceived stubbornness."

"Perceived stubbornness? 'He's a grown man after all, at least as far as we know'?"

Mary smiled. "Well you must admit that it's impressive how I can think of these rebukes at the spur of the moment."

Matthew laughed ruefully. "Yes, I'm ever so proud of your ability to come up with withering insults for me at the drop of a hat."

They came to the north end of Green Park and Mary smiled. "The Winterbourne Café," she said, looking into the distance.

Matthew smiled and stole a glance at her, meeting her eyes before looking back away as they crossed the street. "You know, I've heard it is the most delightful little spot."

"As have I," Mary agreed. "You just never know who you'll run into there."

They laughed together as they continued their tour.

**London, England, December 1911**

The day after Aunt Rosamund's party, Cora took all of the girls shopping. By the time they returned to Grantham House they had to dress for dinner and Mary could not leave. The second day she announced in advance that she planned on taking a walk in the park in the afternoon, but her Papa nixed that idea by saying they were taking tea at a friend's home. Knowing that she would now be standing up Matthew two days in a row, she threw a slight tantrum that was part faked and part real, and she managed to exact a promise from her parents that she would be free to do as she pleased the following two afternoons. Mary complained that she needed to visit her favourite boutiques without her sisters or parents interfering with her shopping. Thankfully, Mary's obsessive nature when it came to fashion was well known, and her parents agreed in exasperation.

On the third day, Mary was sure to show up at the Winterbourne Café at half past one o'clock in the afternoon. She was decidedly anxious as she ordered tea and scones and went to sit down at the back of the room. What if Matthew did not come? What if he was angry with her for not showing up earlier in the week? He promised her he would wait, but how could she reasonably expect him to do so when she kept putting him off? She drank her tea nervously, glancing at the door constantly.

To her relief, she did not have to wait long. A familiar blond haired man came into the Café at a quarter to two. He saw her sitting in the back and he smiled, ordering a coffee and a croissant before approaching and taking a seat at the table next to hers. Mary smiled and looked down at her tea cup as he got closer. Of course Matthew had waited for her, just as he said he would.

Facing towards the wall so he could see her diagonally across from him, but ensuring it did not look like they were sitting together, Matthew spoke softly as he blew on his coffee.

"You came," he grinned.

"And you're early," she smiled, still looking down at her cup. "I hope you didn't think me rude for not appearing until now. Mama took us shopping two days ago and Papa took us for tea yesterday. I wasn't told about either of these appointments in advance. I couldn't risk sending a message here without arousing suspicion, and I…"

"It's all right," Matthew assured her, sipping his coffee. "I'm just glad you're here."

"I've managed to free my afternoon tomorrow as well," Mary whispered, looking away.

"That's wonderful news," Matthew replied.

They continued whispering to each other and sipping their drinks. Matthew's mind was working frantically. How could he get her away from Grantham House? Meeting at the Café had worked, but they had no privacy. There were no other parties that he was scheduled to be at for the rest of the week, and he could not very well attend any of her events uninvited. He stopped thinking about it as they continued their secret conversation. It was always so easy to speak to Mary. He could tell her anything that came to mind and it would lead them on a journey of opinion, debate and the exchange of ideas, with a few endearments mixed in. It was how they were with each other from the beginning – they never lacked for conversation.

After finishing their drinks and remaining in the Café longer than most patrons, they rose reluctantly and left. Mary's family was invited out for dinner that evening and she needed to be back home early to get ready. They took a long way through Green Park to prolong their time together. When he was sure they were hidden from view, Matthew pulled Mary to him.

"Goodbye, Mary," he whispered. "Thank you for a lovely afternoon."

"Until tomorrow, Matthew," she smiled back, kissing him chastely before turning and walking down the road to Grantham House.

Matthew crossed the street and walked parallel to Mary. He trailed behind her to ensure she got back to Grantham House safely and went on his way back to his hotel. He approached one of the bellmen when he reached the Albermale Street entrance.

"Excuse me," Matthew asked. "Is this the only door to the hotel?"

"It's the main one, sir," the young boy replied. "The doors at the back are for deliveries and staff. There's another entrance around the corner there. Used to be the entrance for the old St. George's Hotel. No one uses it. It'd be the long way to the get to the front desk, I suppose."

"Thank you," Matthew replied. He walked through the lobby and down a hallway, coming to the side entrance. Looking down the hall, he found a stairway, which he was able to take up to his floor. Matthew smiled as he walked the short distance from the stairway entrance to his room.

The next afternoon Mary arrived at the Café just as she promised. Matthew was already there waiting for her at the back of the room. Once they finished their drinks, Matthew looked at her with a nervous smile.

"Can we walk? I know it's a risk, but I'd like to speak to you…properly."

Mary smiled as she looked down at her empty cup. "Lead on, Mr. Crawley."

As they rose and left the Café, they turned towards Piccadilly and walked for another block in silence, glancing around to make sure they did not see any familiar faces. The street was crowded and they blended in well.

"Where to, Lady Mary?"

"I put myself in your very capable hands, Mr. Crawley."

They walked down the busy street, keeping a respectable distance between them. Matthew's fingers twitched, and he had to stop himself from reaching for Mary's hand, or touching her waist. Speaking with her openly in public was a pleasure that he thought he had lost at the end of last summer, but being so close to her had him craving more than mere discussion. Inspiration struck him when he looked down the street.

"Fancy going to see the pictures, Lady Mary?"

Mary looked up, then smiled back at him.

"That's a wonderful idea, Matthew."

They walked to the theatre and he purchased two tickets for the afternoon show. The theatre was dark and was conveniently almost empty. A silent movie began to play and they sat down near the back. They watched for several minutes before Matthew took her hand in his, holding it between them. Mary smiled at the gesture. They kept their eyes on the film, even though neither of them was really paying any attention at all.

After several moments, Mary pulled his hand towards her, drawing his gaze. She smiled warmly and leaned towards him.

"We don't have much time," she whispered.

He leaned closer and kissed her, his free hand moving to her cheek and stroking her face while their tongues caressed each other. Mary moaned softly into his mouth. Their hands roamed each other's bodies with a knowing ease, their lips touching tenderly before hers would wander to his neck, and his would capture her earlobe and throat.

"I'm not sorry," he whispered as he held her close, their foreheads touching. "I know we said goodbye, and it was the hardest thing I've ever done, and it will kill me to say goodbye to you again next week, but I could never regret this."

She kissed him again, framing her face with her hands. "Tomorrow is another day, Matthew. Today, we're together. Today, I'm where I belong, darling."

They left the theatre before the movie was finished. While Matthew would love to have stayed, he did not want to keep Mary away for too long. Before they arrived within view of Grantham House, he stopped and pulled her aside, kissing her quickly.

"Here, I bought you these, to explain what you've been up to while you've been shopping," Matthew smiled, taking a small bag from his coat pocket and handing it to her.

Mary's eyes widened in surprise and she looked inside the bag, delighting in the elegant black gloves that he had bought for her.

"Thank you, Matthew!" she said, her eyes dancing. "They are beautiful."

"I rather like the idea of you wearing them," he said with a smirk.

"So do I," she answered, kissing him again.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" Matthew asked nervously.

"Yes, darling," Mary smiled. "I shall make every effort to escape for the afternoon. 2 o'clock at the Café?"

"I'll be waiting."

Mary ran her gloved hand along his cheek once more before she turned and walked off. Matthew saw her safely to Grantham House. He wore a decidedly boyish grin across his face all the way to his hotel. Mary was right. Tomorrow was another day with its own challenges. Today they saw each other. Today they kissed. Today they were together.

**Downton Abbey, England, February 1912**

"Mary, have you seen today's newspaper?"

"I haven't, Sybil. Papa's probably still reading it. Why don't you go and ask him?"

"Whenever I ask Papa for the paper he hands me the fashion section or the crossword puzzle," Sybil whined.

Mary looked up from her book and smirked at her youngest sister's attitude. "And this is a problem? What exactly do you want to read in the paper, Sybil?"

"I don't know," she sighed, coming over to the sofa and sitting down next to Mary. "Something about what's going on in the world, some news from London or America."

"Goodness, you're rather inquisitive for such a young Lady," Mary teased.

Sybil ignored her sister's comment. "What are you reading? I haven't seen that book before."

"I picked it up in London over the holidays," Mary explained, keeping the book away from Sybil's grasp. "It's a collection of Greek mythology."

"Really? You bought that for yourself?"

"It was a gift. Why do you sound so surprised?"

"I can't say," Sybil quirked her eyebrow. "It just doesn't seem like something you would want to read in your spare time. Greek mythology can be rather…"

"Yes?" Mary asked.

"Rather romantic, and idealistic. There's often a moral lesson, and I didn't think you would be interested in that."

"I can appreciate classic literature as much as the next Lady, thank you," Mary said airily, going back to her marked page.

"Which tale are you reading now, Mary?"

Mary looked up from her book and rolled her eyes before looking at Sybil with a smile. "Darling, if I tell you, will you promise to leave me be? I'm reading about the Trials of Hercules. The Augean task specifically."

"Ah, there you both are," Cora called as she entered the library. "Sybil, your Granny will be here soon, please go fetch Edith and have Mrs. Hughes arrange for tea and sandwiches in the parlour."

"Yes, Mama," Sybil said, rising from the sofa and setting off for Edith's room.

"Mary, there's something we need to discuss before your Granny arrives," Cora began slowly, sitting down next to her eldest daughter.

"Is it important? I was hoping to finish this story, actually," Mary replied, still reading.

"It is. Put the book down."

Mary looked up at her Mama's serious expression. She reluctantly closed the book and placed it on the side table. "Well? What is it?"

"It's about your cousin, Patrick."

Mary instantly shook her head. "Mama, not again," she began.

"Listen, Mary," Cora raised her hand and frowned at her daughter. "Cousin James and Patrick are leaving in May for America. We're going to have them over before they go and I expect you to take care of Patrick."

"What makes you think my opinion has changed since the last time you raised the subject?" Mary bit back. "Honestly, Mama. My debut was just last summer. Why must I be ordered to marry Cousin Patrick when he isn't even the best offer I may receive? Not to mention the fact that he hasn't formally asked me yet, either."

"He'll ask you when he is told to, which will be after he comes back from America, I expect. Mary, I know you received many invitations during your Season, but that was months ago and nothing has come of it. It's important that you are settled, not just for your own sake but for your sisters as well."

"Oh, I see. I forgot that in addition to my own husband, I need to also find someone else willing to take Edith," Mary rolled her eyes.

"Mary," Cora warned. "You know that isn't what I meant. We've been over this. You know very well what your duty is as eldest daughter of the Earl of Grantham. The longer you go without an arrangement, the harder it will be for your sisters when their Seasons arrive."

"This entire situation would be far simpler if Papa would simply challenge the entail," Mary growled.

"We've been over this again and again, Mary. It simply isn't possible."

"If he isn't willing to fight for me to begin with, then obviously there's no hope in it."

"Why do you think you're more worthy than Cousin James?"

"Cousin James inherit Downton? He doesn't even live here!"

Cora sighed heavily.

"How are you so sure I won't have a better offer before Patrick returns from America?" Mary pressed her case.

"Name one," Cora replied pointedly. "If any of your suitors during the summer were serious, his family would have at least contacted Papa by now. You can't hold on to false hope, Mary. I expect you to be far more practical about these things."

Mary's mind swam with the names of various suitors who had written to her since the summer. There was no use disclosing them to her Mama though. Truth be told, none of them were a much better option than Patrick himself. Worse still, the one name she was interested in was a lost cause.

"Rest assured, Mama. For months now, I have thought of little else than the practicality of my marriage," Mary replied. "If you and Granny did not have such an exhaustive list of characteristics for my future husband, I could find someone better suited for me than Cousin Patrick."

"Mary, please," Cora sighed. "You act as if what we want is all that matters."

"Isn't it?" Mary raised her eyebrow in challenge.

"Well, it isn't the only thing that matters," Cora conceded. Mary turned away bitterly.

"Mary," Cora said in a matronly manner. Mary turned back to her. "My darling, I know you do not enjoy being told what to do, but I also know that you do enjoy living a certain lifestyle. There are only particular gentlemen who can provide that for you, dear, and Patrick is one of them. If you can find a better match, then fine, but if not, we're going ahead with your Papa's plans and you will do your duty to this family. I don't understand why you've become so stubborn about this. Whenever we discussed your duty in the years before your debut, you didn't need so much convincing. I thought you understood exactly what was expected of you. I thought you understood you would marry Patrick if that's what it came to."

"That's not the point," Mary said dismissively. "I never agreed to marry Cousin Patrick; I only said I would consider it. I was barely a teenager, Mama. I hadn't had my Season yet. I hadn't met anyone else." _'I hadn't met Matthew'_ she thought forlornly.

"I could find someone perfect for me, Mama," Mary continued. "I could find someone who is clever, and witty, someone who makes me laugh and who values me for the woman I am, rather than for the fact I am the eldest daughter of the Earl of Grantham. But that man would not suit any of you, simply because he may not be a Duke, or heir to a grand Estate, or listed in Burke's Peerage."

"Is that so?" Cora laughed. "Honestly, Mary, do you expect me to believe that you would marry outside of Society? That sounds like something strange that only an American would do."

Mary grit her teeth at her Mama's insinuation.

"We're talking about your future, Mary. Do you remember all of the vivid dreams you had as a child of being a Countess one day? That won't happen by magic, Mary; and it certainly won't happen with a man outside of our class. This isn't only about you. It's about this family. Now, unless you want another lecture from your Granny, I'll tell her that we've discussed the matter and we won't speak about it again until Cousin James and Patrick arrive next month."

"Yes, Mama," Mary said quietly.

"I'll expect you in the parlour shortly. Your Granny should be here within the hour. This situation must be handled properly, Mary. Remember that." Cora rose from the sofa and left the library.

"I'm not as fastidious about doing things properly as you might think," Mary said softly, picking up her book and holding it to her chest. "But I'm also not nearly as rebellious either."

**Painswick House, Eaton Square, London, England, December 1912**

"So, that's Cousin Matthew, future Earl of Grantham."

Mary suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at her Aunt Rosamund's comment. She knew that tone well. It was generally followed by a caustic remark, or worse, a scheme.

"In the flesh," Mary replied indifferently, taking another sip of champagne. She looked over at Matthew speaking to Alex and smiled to herself. He really did look rather handsome in black tie, she mused. A lovely benefit of him now being her Papa's heir was that she was allowed to look upon him whenever she wished.

"Your Mama tells me that you are not very impressed by him."

"I wouldn't say that," Mary said carefully. "We've all gotten to know him a bit more in the past months since his arrival. He's slightly better mannered than I originally believed, I'll admit that."

"But you still won't marry him?"

"He hasn't asked me," Mary said plainly, trying to keep her calm veneer. Speaking to Aunt Rosamund was akin to broadcasting her thoughts to her Mama, Granny and various members of Society all at once. She needed to be judicious about what details she provided.

"And if he did? It would be a way for you to maintain control of the Estate despite the entail."

"A tidier solution would be if Papa would fight the entail," Mary sighed.

"I agree, but that is a battle that may already be lost."

"Papa seems to think so, and therefore I mean nothing in all of this," Mary replied. "Excuse me, Aunt Rosamund, I think I see Lady Ellen has arrived."

Mary walked away, somewhat pleased with herself. She could already picture in her mind her Aunt Rosamund informing her Mama that Mary had not entirely objected to the idea of marrying Matthew, which was a subtle change from her stance of several months ago. She smiled at the idea that her Aunt Rosamund's gossipy nature may prove useful after all.

Mary exchanged her empty glass for another flute of champagne as she passed one of the servers. She deliberately walked across Matthew's line of sight, sipping her drink slowly. She surreptitiously caught Matthew's eye and raised her eyebrow briefly, never breaking her stride. Matthew could not stop looking at her as she crossed the room.

"Excuse me, Matthew," Alex smiled at his friend's distraction. "I think I need to refresh my drink. I'll speak with you later."

Matthew turned back in time to see Alex walk away with a full glass and a knowing smirk. He shook his head before looking back to where Mary had wandered off to. Scanning the room slowly, he realized she was no longer in the ballroom. Smiling to himself, Matthew walked towards the far hallway.

He walked down the darkened corridor, the sound of the party disappearing into the background. Looking around carefully to ensure he had not been seen, Matthew slipped into the darkened parlour, closing the door silently behind him. Before he could adjust his eyes to the lack of light, he felt a firm grip on his arm. He turned and gloved hands tilted his head down and soft lips captured his mouth.

"Mary," he smiled as he moved from her mouth, kissing her cheek and neck.

"Were you expecting Edith or someone else?" she teased.

"I would appreciate it if you did not mention your sister's name while I am kissing you," he countered, continuing his ministrations.

"Very well," she sighed, closing her eyes at the sensations caused by his lips dancing across her skin. "Are you enjoying the party?"

"Quite. It's the loveliest Winter Season party I've been to…since last year." They both muffled their laughter.

"I must say though that I saw the most peculiar glances from your friends," he added.

"That's not surprising," Mary answered. "Now that they've met you, Ellen and Sarah are probably imagining how to position themselves as the future Countess of Grantham."

Matthew pulled back from her and frowned. "You can't be serious."

"A Lady needs to be settled, Matthew," Mary said bitterly. "An unfortunate consequence of our plan is that it makes you seem rather eligible."

Matthew's first impulse was to point out that the plan was in fact Mary's, and therefore any consequences were the result of her own folly. However, he was wise enough to stifle that reply, and instead gave her a deep kiss.

"I hope they won't be too disappointed, then. I've been off the market for years now," he smirked, resuming his kisses to her neck and guiding her away from the door.

"Truly?" Mary smiled, tilting her head and closing her eyes as pleasure flared through her. "Years, you say?"

"Well it isn't public knowledge, you see," Matthew answered against her throat. "But the truth is that I'm completely besotted by an enigma of a woman. Even though it seemed at one point that nothing could come of it, I've found that she is quite unforgettable."

"Chasing after a woman you can't have would make you seem rather foolish, or idiotic," Mary whispered, partly as a tease, but also in sad acknowledgement of how despondent their situation had been just a year before.

"Truly," Matthew replied, pulling back from her warm skin and causing her to open her eyes at him. "But, you see, when you love someone, the heart tends to pay no attention to anything Society has to say."

Mary grinned and brought his mouth back to hers, kissing him again before staring at his bright blue eyes through the darkness.

"Would you like to sit?" she asked mischievously, nodding her head towards the settee.

"That depends," Matthew said, almost growling. "Are you prepared to finish what you started there last year?"

"Since you're the one who stopped me, I could ask you the same thing," Mary smirked.

Matthew kissed her lips, the curve of her jaw, then her throat.

"Lady Mary, are you trying to seduce me? I think perhaps you've had too much champagne."

"And what if I have?" Mary whispered in his ear, pulling him closer. "Are you willing to take advantage?"

"Are you willing to be so bold?" Matthew hissed, his hand moving down past her hips and pulling her towards him, their bodies pressed scandalously close together.

"Matthew!" she gasped as he gave her a lustful stare. She kissed him ardently now, trying to show him with her touch that despite the illusions they were showing her family, despite her cold exterior and passive indifference, she was still completely his.

They fell together to the settee, smiling between their kisses and groping each other indulgently. Matthew pulled her across his lap, groaning into her mouth at the contact. Mary's wantonness thrilled him, but even as they continued kissing, his mind began to reluctantly reassert control over his body. He fought back the restraints of common sense by focusing on Mary's soft lips and her breathy moans as they kissed. He felt her squirm slightly against him, and her hands stroking his back. The night is still young, his body argued. No one knows we're in the parlour, his ego agreed. No one will find out, his desire cried.

Matthew sighed as he leaned back and forced his eyes open. Watching Mary move to kiss his neck almost convinced him to abandon his internal struggle. He blinked several times, holding her warm body closer.

"I believe," he whispered as she licked and soothed his skin with her lips, "that you are very lucky I still barely have my wits about me, Mary. As much as I do not want to say this, we'll likely be missed by now."

She hummed against his throat, bringing her lips up to his one last time before she pulled back. "We are about to get carried away," she agreed. "I would look quite the sight coming back out with my hair dishevelled and my gown a mess," she laughed.

Her hands framed his face as she looked at him adoringly. "And believe me when I say, Matthew, a part of me would not care in the slightest."

Matthew grinned and breathed deeply as she rose from the settee and adjusted her dress, ensuring her hair was still intact.

"I'll see you outside," she said with one last smile before leaving the parlour quietly.

"Naughty minx," Matthew said, staring at the door she had just disappeared through. He took several minutes to calm himself before he was ready to return to the party. Looking around the darkened room, he remembered the last time he was in this very parlour, sitting on the same settee. He grinned widely and laughed.

He eventually returned to the ballroom. Mary was speaking to Sybil. Matthew gave them a wide berth and went to the bar.

"Club soda with lime," Alex announced, handing him a drink. "And lots of ice."

Matthew huffed, giving him a false frown as he accepted the drink.

"It really is a wonderful party, isn't it?" Alex mused.

"Without question. I cannot remember a better one," Matthew replied, watching Mary across the room over the rim of his glass.


	5. Chapter 5

**Previously:**

**Painswick House, Eaton Square, London, England, December 1912**

Her hands framed his face as she looked at him adoringly. "And believe me when I say, Matthew, a part of me would not care in the slightest."

Matthew grinned and breathed deeply as she rose from the settee and adjusted her dress, ensuring her hair was still intact.

"I'll see you outside," she said with one last smile before leaving the parlour quietly.

"Naughty minx," Matthew said, staring at the door she had just disappeared through. He took several minutes to calm himself before he was ready to return to the party. Looking around the darkened room, he remembered the last time he was in this very parlour, sitting in the same position. He grinned widely and laughed.

He eventually returned to the ballroom. Mary was speaking to Sybil. Matthew gave them a wide berth and went to the bar.

"Club soda with lime," Alex announced, handing him a drink. "And lots of ice."

Matthew huffed, giving him a false frown as he accepted the drink.

"It really is a wonderful party, isn't it?" Alex mused.

"Without question. I cannot remember a better one," Matthew replied, watching Mary across the room over the rim of his glass.

**Chapter 5:**

**Downton Abbey, England, December 1912**

Mary came down the stairs wearing a fitted blue dress. Matthew had not seen this one before and he smiled as he saw the long black gloves she chose to match her outfit. She gave him a knowing glance before following Cora through to the drawing room for drinks before dinner.

They spent more time together during their days in London, but their relationship in front of her family was still cordial and nothing more. Mary still kept herself composed and aloof, more tolerant of his presence rather than friendly. For Matthew's part, he was more pleasant towards her, but he took time to speak with Edith and Sybil as well, to make it seem as though he were paying the three sisters relatively even attention. Although Mary cringed as Edith's gaze toward Matthew became all the more lovestruck by the week, she was inwardly pleased at how easily he got along with her family. She found it amusing to see him laughing with Sybil or speaking knowledgeably with her father about some issue with the Estate. He could even keep up with Granny for a time.

"I must say I am impressed with Matthew," Cora admitted. "He's been here for a few months and he's handled it all quite well."

"He's fit in far more smoothly than you did at the beginning," Violet agreed. Cora rolled her eyes and did not bother responding. "His Mother, however," Violet continued. "Well, we shouldn't be too greedy."

"Where is Isobel?" Robert asked. "I thought she would be joining us as well."

"I told you already, darling," Cora said. "Isobel went to London this weekend. Her late husband's sister is spending the weekend with her in the City."

"Well what of Matthew's weekend plans then?"

"He'll fend for himself at Crawley House, I suppose," Violet replied.

Robert frowned. "Surely there's no need for that."

"Matthew," Robert called, walking over to his heir. "Cora told me that Cousin Isobel is in London for the weekend."

"Yes, that's right. She's meeting my aunt in the City."

"Well that leaves Crawley House rather empty then, doesn't it?" Robert inquired.

"There's still Molesley, Ellen, and Mrs. Bird, Cousin Robert," he replied. Mary smirked when she heard this. Matthew was the only heir to an Earldom that she knew who was perfectly at ease spending a weekend with no one around but the servants. She could picture him sitting at the dining table with his sleeves rolled up, playing cards with the lot of them as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"As pleasant as their company must be, Matthew," Robert said graciously. "Why don't you stay here with us for the weekend? I'll have one of the footmen fetch some of your things and you can stay in the Bachelor's Wing. Thomas can attend to you."

"That's very kind, Cousin Robert, but it's not…" Matthew caught Mary giving him a raised eyebrow out of the corner of his eye and he coughed suddenly. "Thank you, Cousin Robert. Yes, it's a wonderful opportunity to spend more time with all of you."

"Think nothing of it, my boy," the Earl replied. "You can walk out with me tomorrow. We can visit some of the cottages if the weather holds." He turned at the sound of the dinner gong and they all moved towards the dining room.

"Did you hear that, Mary? Cousin Matthew is staying here for the weekend. I hope that isn't too much of an inconvenience for you," Sybil whispered to her sister.

"I suppose I'll have to make do," Mary replied. "You know that my weekends are rather full, Sybil. And it's a large house. Besides, Cousin Matthew won't be leaving us any time soon. I'll have to get used to him being around."

Sybil looked at her older sister curiously.

"Don't worry," Edith added smugly. "I can keep him company if necessary."

"As enticing as that sounds, I'm sure Cousin Matthew would prefer conversation that is above the level he could get from Molesley," Mary answered without even looking in Edith's direction.

Sybil raised her glove to her mouth to stop herself from laughing. Edith glared at Mary as they took their seats at the dinner table.

The ladies went through after dinner and Mary found herself sitting alone on the sofa by the time that her Papa and Matthew came in. Matthew began to move to sit with her, but he stopped himself and took a nearby chair instead. She looked over at him briefly, thanking him with her eyes for continuing to play his part.

"Is that a new gown?" Matthew asked carefully, taking a drink from Thomas. "It's just that I don't think I've ever seen you wear it before."

Mary paused before replying, trying to maintain the delicate balance between showing him courtesy and holding back the warm banter they always shared in private. "It is new, actually. I had it made weeks ago but only had the chance to wear it tonight for the first time." Mary took a drink of sherry, looking at Matthew as she thought of how to phrase her next comment just right.

"When I had the dress made, I imagined matching them with these gloves," she smirked. "They were a gift that I received in London during the last Winter Season and I adore them. They look quite nice, don't they?"

Matthew sipped his drink and looked at her knowingly. Her face was calm but her eyes were teasing. "They are lovely," he replied, and they shared a slight smile as they each looked away.

"We've received a letter from Viscount Branksome," Robert announced to everyone.

"Holiday wishes?" Edith asked.

"Yes, but he's also informed me that his son, Evelyn, will be joining us at Downton for the Hunt in March."

Mary looked up upon hearing this news. Evelyn was coming to Downton? She did not miss the fact that Matthew's eyes seemed to dart from his glass of brandy to her Papa at the mention of Evelyn's name.

"Why, how splendid," Cora commented. "Mary, perhaps we should invite Mr. Napier to stay with us here at the house?"

Mary swallowed. Matthew's lip twitched momentarily and she could almost see the anger boiling inside of him.

"That's really not necessary, Mama," she said, trying to keep her tone even. "Surely Evelyn is planning on staying in the Village with the other men who come in for the Hunt."

"Actually, Viscount Branksome did mention that Evelyn has made his own arrangements," Robert revealed. "He's hosting a foreign diplomat as part of the Albanian independence negotiations, so they'll both be staying in the Village."

"Nonsense!" Cora replied. "A stay at a proper English country house may help with his efforts. I'll write to Beatrice and invite Evelyn and his guest to stay with us."

"Lady Branksome passed away, Mama," Sybil informed her. "Over a year ago."

"Oh dear," Cora replied. "Well, Robert you can write to Viscount Branksome then and extend our invitation."

"Why don't you have Mary write to Evelyn?" Edith suggested, looking pleased with herself as she took a sip of sherry.

"That's a very good idea," Cora agreed. "The two of you get along very well, don't you Mary? And it has been a while since you've spoken to Evelyn, hasn't it? He wasn't at Rosamund's party this year."

"Oh, I'm sure it can't have been too long," Edith answered, almost giggling now.

"It has been a while, actually," Mary replied, her voice rich with venom. She frowned at Edith before turning back to Cora. "Mama, if you wish to invite Mr. Napier and his guest, Papa can write to Viscount Branksome. It is not my place to extend invitations to family friends when it should come from either of you."

As Cora contemplated her daughter's answer, Robert interjected. "What about you, Matthew? It's a few months away yet but the Hunt is a rather exciting tradition here. You should consider joining in."

"Yes," Matthew answered with a forced smile. "I shall certainly take it under consideration. It sounds like it could be a very eventful day indeed."

Matthew drank his brandy and stared into the fireplace. Mary could see his eyes were dark. She sipped her sherry as her parents moved the conversation to another topic. Matthew did not look at her or speak to her for the rest of the evening. She could do nothing to get his attention as they retired separately and went off to their different wings of the house.

Matthew grunted as he turned in bed once again. He had dismissed Barrow somewhat curtly when the footman had come to help him get ready for bed. Mumbling an apology about having a headache, Matthew changed alone and petulantly ducked under the bedcovers. Now, over two hours after he retired, he stared up at the ornate ceiling, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

All of the giddy anticipation he felt when Robert invited him to stay at the Big House for the weekend dissipated upon hearing of Evelyn Napier's pending arrival. Of course it wasn't Mary's fault that Evelyn was coming to Downton. It was not as if Mary had invited him. But, on the other hand, if Mary was not so adamant that they not reveal their true feelings for each other, Cora would not have been nearly as enthusiastic to invite Evelyn to stay over. Matthew thought about having to watch Mary ride out with Evelyn for the Hunt, having to bite his tongue while the Viscount's son flirted with Mary over dinner, and he felt nauseous. Thoughts of Evelyn speaking to Mary inevitably brought Matthew's mind back to November 1911 in London and how they looked so well matched standing next to each other at Aunt Rosamund's Winter Season party.

"Crikey, what a mess," he sighed. Before dinner, Matthew was downright exuberant, strategizing over how to steal some moments alone with Mary this weekend. Now he was melancholy, almost wanting to not spend the weekend at Downton Abbey at all.

He frowned as he heard what was unmistakably the sound of his door being opened, then quietly closed. In the darkness, he could not see to the doorway. He could easily, however, make out the sound of light footsteps as someone approached his bed. He sat up and was about to throw off the bedcovers when he smelled vanilla and rosewater, felt a warm hand cover his mouth and soft lips kiss his cheek.

"Shh," Mary whispered. "We have to be quiet."

Her lips moved across his neck and ear before finding his mouth. He stiffened, trying to pull away from her, but she refused to be deterred. She pressed her lips against his, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth and he yielded, groaning softly as he tasted her.

Matthew eventually pushed her away, gently but firmly. "You won't get off that easily, if that's what you think," he hissed.

Mary sighed. "For God's sake, Matthew! It isn't as if I invited Evelyn here! You heard Papa yourself! What right do I have to deny a friend of the family coming to pay us a visit, for the Hunt no less?"

"Oh, I'm sure he would very much welcome your invitation, Lady Mary," Matthew said ruefully. "Do not act as though you don't know what Mr. Napier's intentions are. He could attend any number of events across England if he so chose. Coming to Downton is rather convenient, isn't it?"

"I have no control over what his intentions are!" she fired back at him. "I have not encouraged him in any way, and I assure you that I will not do so now or in the months to come, if you have so little faith in my commitment to you!"

"When was the last time you wrote to him?" Matthew demanded, his gaze penetrating even in the darkness.

"How did you-?"

"I am well aware that he wrote to you prior to Patrick's death, and I would suspect that after a reasonable period, he would resume doing so. Answer me. When was the last time you wrote to the Viscount's son?"

"The last time I wrote to him was in July, months before you arrived at Downton," she answered indignantly. "Months before Papa told us the exact name of his third cousin once removed who would become his heir. Months before I knew I would ever see you again. And while we're on the subject, my reply was entirely neutral and proper. I did not encourage him at all. Though I should think it would be obvious, I haven't written to him since. Any other questions, Lord Inquisitor?"

"Your Mama is going to expect you to host him, you know? You'll have to ride out with him for the Hunt; sit next to him at dinner. She'll practically order you to throw yourself at him," Matthew grumbled, keeping his voice to a whisper with great effort.

"And I will do no such thing," Mary declared in a low voice. "I'll be civil to him, and nothing more. You yourself are well aware of how impolite I can be if the need arises."

His anger simmered as she kissed his neck again. "I'm still cross with you," he said, not altogether convincingly. "This all could be avoided if we were engaged, and we would be if not for your insistence on maintaining this ruse."

"Yes, it's entirely my fault," Mary whispered between kisses, her hands roaming his chest and shoulders. "I deserve to be punished," she said seductively as he became aware of how close her body was pressed to his, the bedcovers the only thing separating them.

"I'm serious, Mary!" Matthew complained, though he did nothing to stop her attentions.

"Just a bit longer, Matthew. They've noticed that we're getting along better now, and soon we can be openly friendly with each other. You can even flirt with me in front of the family if you like," Mary smiled as she felt his body tense at her suggestion.

"I'll discourage Evelyn and we'll be engaged soon after. All will be well, darling. I promise."

She kissed his lips and he finally returned her touch, moving his hands to her hips and pulling her towards him. She felt warm to him through her thin dressing gown and he hummed against her skin as his lips moved below her ear and to the curve of her shoulder.

"Now," she said, pushing him back against the pillows and kissing his neck once more. "Do you want me to leave your bed, or do you want me to show you how appreciative I am for your patience and understanding?"

"I may not be able to show my usual level of restraint," Matthew gasped as his hands travelled along her sides before coming back down and resting across her hips.

Mary raised her head and smiled at him. "Don't worry, darling. Just lie back and let me take care of you, this time."

**Brown's Hotel, Mayfair, London, England, December 1911**

"You have the most curious look on your face," Mary smiled.

"Well I'm sorry, but it still seems odd to see you in my bed," Matthew replied with a lazy smile.

"It's not as if this is the first time, Matthew," Mary teased. "You find it odd? I think it rather nice, actually."

"As nice as nice can be. Particularly since I did not think I would have the privilege again." He leaned forward and they kissed softly before they lay back down, his head on the soft pillow and hers on the quilt covering his chest.

"Matthew?"

"Yes?" he responded, his eyes still closed.

"Do you think any less of me? For coming to you here, and being in your bed?"

Matthew's eyes shot open and he looked at her. Mary bit her bottom lip. Matthew leaned forward and kissed her forehead softly.

"Absolutely not, darling! How could you think that?" Matthew blinked, his eyes wide with sudden fear. "Do you regret it?"

"No! No, not at all. I didn't regret being with you last summer and I don't regret being here with you now. It's just that, well, it isn't the proper way of doing things."

"In fairness, Mary, we haven't actually done much of anything. Nothing truly scandalous that would endanger your reputation, surely."

"Easy for you to say; you're a man," Mary rolled her eyes and sat up, wrapping the quilt around her knees. "If we were caught, the scandal wouldn't affect you nearly as much."

"Perhaps that's true," Matthew acknowledged, sitting up and bringing his arm around her shoulders. "But a few stolen kisses are hardly anything to make a fuss over. Not to say I have not enjoyed them…immensely." He kissed her cheek lightly.

"I'm in bed in a hotel room with a man who isn't my husband, Matthew," Mary said gruffly. "I can assure you that my parents would not give me credit for our still being partially clothed, or the precise distinctions of what we have and haven't done."

"Well it isn't as if I've stolen your virtue!" Matthew complained, before softening his tone. "I didn't mean that I expected you to…I just wanted to see you, to hold you without having to look over my shoulder, that's all. I'm sorry that I've made you angry."

Mary smiled at him. "I know that, Matthew. My life makes me angry. Not you."

Mary cupped his cheek, bringing him closer as her tongue stroked just inside his upper lip. She shivered as his fingers caressed the bare skin of her back above her corset. She moaned softly as their kiss intensified. She leaned into him, his bare chest against her back, smiling against his lips as the movement brought a groan out of him.

"I could do it, you know," she said quietly as he held her. "I could leave the Estate to Cousin James and Patrick and leave all of my so-called friends here in London behind. It would be liberating in a way – not having to live by all these outdated rules and conventions, not having to measure my worth by my husband's title."

"Lady Mary Crawley of Manchester," Matthew chuckled. "Oh, my darling. You could never leave Downton. Even though I've never been there, when I hear you talk about it, and see the look in your eyes, I know how much you love it there. It's your home."

"I'd have to leave eventually, so why not now?" Mary replied stubbornly. "I'd have to give up Downton to go live with Patrick, or if not him, with whichever potential husband Mama ordered me to sit next to at dinner."

"I'll need to arrange for a dinner invitation, then," Matthew said, smiling into her hair.

"I'd love to see you try," Mary laughed.

Matthew pulled back and took her face in his hands.

"Tomorrow is another day, remember?" he said soothingly. "And today?"

"Today we're together," Mary nodded.

"So for right now, my darling, let me take care of you," Matthew smiled.

Matthew massaged her shoulders, kissing her neck as his hands rubbed insistently against her pale skin. Mary sighed in pleasure, enjoying his touch and patient attention. She wished that time could stand still and they could live in their quiet sanctuary for a while longer.

Eventually she kissed his cheek and sighed as she got up from the bed.

"We should be heading back. The work day will be over soon and there will be more people in the street that could spot us."

"They could spot you. No one knows who I am," Matthew teased. Mary shot him a sharp look and a raised eyebrow.

Matthew nodded seriously and got up. He fetched her blouse, skirt, overcoat and shoes. He kissed her bare shoulders and arms as he helped her into each garment.

"You would make an exceptional lady's maid," Mary joked as she turned and kissed him once she was fully dressed.

Matthew shook his head at her. He put his shirt and suit jacket back on and went to fetch his coat from the closet. Pulling the coat off the hanger, Matthew noticed a familiar bag sitting on the shelf. He smiled as he retrieved it.

"I almost forgot," he beamed as he turned to Mary. "I know it's not Christmas just yet, but you know I'm not very patient when it comes to these things." He handed the bag to her.

Mary's eyes lit up as she reached into the bag and pulled out a small leather bound book. "Oh, Matthew! Thank you. It's perfect!"

"Happy Christmas, Mary. You seemed to enjoy hearing me read to you last summer, so I thought it would be nice if you had some of the stories yourself."

Mary opened the book and flipped through the pages. "It won't be nearly the same without hearing your voice. This is beautiful, Matthew. Does it include the story of Andromeda?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I think I've marked the exact page for you, in fact," Matthew answered, smiling as he recalled when he first read that particular story to her.

Mary stepped towards him and kissed him soundly. She smiled at the blissful expression on his face when she pulled back. "This is so thoughtful of you, darling. Thank you."

Matthew checked the hallway before he escorted her down the side stairway and out the old entrance of the former St. George's Hotel. They quickly blended in with the crowd and made their way back to Grantham House. Their conversation was limited, as it often was when he walked her home. Each step brought them closer to parting, and closer to the end of Mary's stay in London. Maintaining a pleasant mood was difficult under the circumstances.

"Goodbye, Matthew. Thank you for a lovely day."

"Until tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

"Until next time," Mary nodded.

He watched her walk down the street and disappear into Grantham House.

**Downton Abbey, England, January 1913**

"Here you are, Matthew. For courage."

Matthew smirked as he took the glass of whiskey from Robert. He raised the glass in thanks and took a sip.

"Is there anyone in particular that I should dance with?" he asked.

"Well, convention is that Cora opens it with Carson, then I join in with Mrs. Hughes. You should follow after me, and I suppose that leaves O'Brien as your partner."

Matthew quirked his eyebrows. "How interesting," he mustered. Robert smiled.

"You should probably try to dance with some of the others as well. It'll help the servants to warm to you when they see how comfortable you are around them. You can't just stand in the corner, I'm afraid."

"Certainly. A Servants' Ball is a rather admirable tradition."

"We all do enjoy it, I must say. In any event, you won't be pushed upon O'Brien, Anna and Mrs. Patmore for the entire evening. I'm sure Edith will save you a dance."

Matthew felt the liquor burn his throat as he swallowed rather quickly. "Yes," he stammered. "That would be kind of her. Sybil was nice enough to tell me she would partner me as well at some point."

"She's getting older by the minute, it seems," Robert said fondly. "Oh, and don't feel obligated to dance with Mary. There's no need for both of you to be uncomfortable for the sake of maintaining appearances. She won't be put out if you only dance with Edith and Sybil."

Matthew coughed. "Thank you for that, Cousin Robert. I'll just see how the night plays out."

The door to the study opened and Sybil popped her head in.

"Papa! Cousin Matthew! They're ready to start."

Robert smiled at Matthew and they finished their drinks and followed Sybil to the ballroom where the Servants' Ball was waiting to begin.

Cora walked off the dance floor and sat down next to the Dowager Countess. She had danced the last four songs and welcomed a break and a glass of sherry.

"It is a lovely tradition, isn't it?" Violet stated.

"It is," Cora agreed. "It's nice to let the servants have an evening for themselves."

"Not the entire evening, of course," Violet huffed. "Smithers needs to be home before I retire. I haven't closed up my own home for the evening since…well, Smithers needs to be home, is all."

"I'm pleased to see Matthew taking an active role tonight. Some of the servants seem to be rather taken by him."

"Not only the servants," Violet smiled. "And what about our dear Mary? Has anything changed since London?"

"She's at least being civil with him now," Cora commented. "But she's as stubborn as always. I don't see why Matthew would wait for her, unfortunately. I noticed he was gathering attention during the Winter Season."

"Of course. Society knows who he is now, and more importantly, who he is to become. At least who he may become. Time will tell. Still, if they're a lost cause, then we should turn our attention elsewhere. Sybil's Season is next year and it won't do if both of her older sisters aren't settled beforehand."

Cora looked on thoughtfully at Mary dancing with Carson. Matthew was across the room dancing with Anna. The distance between them seemed much larger still.

"Thank you, Carson," Mary smiled sweetly as the butler escorted her off the dance floor.

"The pleasure was mine, my Lady. Thank you for maintaining our annual tradition."

"Of course, Carson. You know that it's the highlight of my evening."

The butler bowed and walked away, leaving Mary alone with her thoughts. She usually enjoyed the Servants' Ball, but tonight she found herself feeling annoyed more than anything. The evening had started well enough. She laughed with her sisters watching Matthew dance with O'Brien at the beginning. While Edith and Sybil thought Mary was laughing at Matthew out of spite, she in fact found his predicament, and his willingness to sacrifice himself for tradition's sake, rather cute and endearing.

With each dance however, Mary grew more perturbed, despite herself. Matthew danced with Mrs. Hughes, Mrs. Patmore, Daisy, Anna, Edith and Sybil and even her Granny. If she was thinking rationally, Mary would admit that it would have looked strange for Matthew to dance with her. That was not what was expected of them given their public relationship. However, Mary was not prepared to be rational. Watching her beloved dancing with everyone except her was infuriating.

"Mary?"

"Yes, Sybil?" she answered, keeping her irritation under control.

"It's been a fun evening, hasn't it? Matthew is a very good dancer."

Sybil's enthusiasm only raised Mary's annoyance. "I wouldn't know. I've never danced with him," she lied, with more bitterness in her voice than she intended. "I always enjoy the Ball. It's nice to see the servants having fun."

"Sybil!" Cora called. "Come tell your Granny about the dresses we looked at in London."

"Lovely. I can't think of anything I'd rather do," Sybil muttered sarcastically. "Excuse me, Mary."

Mary smiled as her youngest sister walked across the room to where Violet was sitting. Sybil's debut was next year, but their Mama was already making grand plans for it.

Thinking of the Season reminded Mary of Matthew. Thinking of Matthew reminded her that he had not asked her to dance and her mood darkened again. Well, she certainly was not going to ask him to dance. She would never do that. Even if they were engaged and everyone knew about their relationship, Mary Crawley did not ask a man to dance. If Matthew wasn't smart enough to realize that she still wanted to dance with him, even though she made it seem like she didn't want to dance with him, then that was clearly a failing on his part.

She gasped slightly as she felt a hand on her arm. She frowned at this uninvited contact and she turned to confront her adversary, only to come face-to-face with a smiling Matthew.

"Cousin Mary," he nodded, motioning to the dance floor. "What about it?"

Mary initially wanted to pull her arm away, but seeing his handsome face, his immaculate suit and his confident gaze stilled her.

"Are you sure, Cousin Matthew?" she said coldly. "You seem to have a rather full dance card this evening. And we aren't expected to dance together, since we aren't friends. Aren't you afraid that some will think I'm pitying you?"

"I'll chance it," Matthew replied, lowering his voice as his gaze grew slightly more improper. "As long as I get a dance with you, I couldn't care less what other people think or say. Or do you not recall how it feels when we dance together?"

Mary's icy shield cracked. Of course she remembered how it felt to dance with him. She remembered vividly.

"If you put it that way, why not?" Mary smirked at him.

They stepped on to the dance floor and Matthew maintained a respectable distance as they began to waltz.

"You didn't think I would ask you to dance, did you?" he whispered.

"Well, I…" Mary shook her head. "No, I assumed you would keep your distance."

"Robert told me that it wasn't necessary for me to dance with you. No need to maintain appearances, he said."

"Classic Papa. He was probably deathly afraid I would cause a scene and refuse you. So why did you ask me to dance then?"

Matthew smiled at her, his voice becoming low and smooth. God, he must know how much she loved that tone of voice, Mary thought. "Because I don't care about appearances, Mary. I don't care if this goes against our supposedly brilliant plan of slowly warming to each other. I don't care what anyone else is thinking when they see you here in my arms. Up until last September, I thought I had lost you forever. I love you and when presented with the opportunity to dance with you without having to do it in secret, I shall take full advantage."

Mary's hand squeezed his as they moved about the floor. "Why, Matthew," she answered with a smile. "That is precisely the kind of assertiveness that a woman could learn to appreciate."

"Well don't get too used to it, Cousin Mary," Matthew said teasingly. "Come tomorrow, we go back to wearing our masks and the Great Matter shall continue."

"Then that still leaves us the rest of tonight, doesn't it?" Mary replied, smiling as she noticed Matthew swallow at her meaning. "What you must learn about life at Downton is that all manner of things can take place behind closed doors."

The song ended and Matthew was forced to step back from her. He escorted her off the dance floor, but stole a moment to whisper to her.

"Should I dare to get my hopes up that you may come to me later after everyone has retired?" he asked quietly.

"You're being quite forward, Cousin Matthew," Mary whispered back.

"I am," Matthew said, and his tone of voice nearly caused Mary's knees to buckle. "Come to me tonight. Please." The last word was more of a plea than a confident command.

Mary smiled in triumph and spoke quickly without looking at him.

"I suppose you'll just have to see."

She walked away from him and rejoined Sybil and Edith. She felt his eyes on her back and she shivered in delight as she planned their late night rendezvous in her mind.

"See, Mary?" Sybil gushed. "Even you have to admit that Cousin Matthew is a wonderful dancer."

"He's fine, Sybil," Mary replied indifferently, turning around and smiling inwardly as she saw Matthew standing stiffly next to her Papa, his one hand fidgeting with his coat.

"Nothing special," she smirked.


	6. Chapter 6

**Previously:**

**Downton Abbey, England, January 1913**

"Should I dare to get my hopes up that you may come to me later after everyone has retired?" he asked quietly.

"You're being quite forward, Cousin Matthew," Mary whispered back.

"I am," Matthew said, and his tone of voice nearly caused Mary's knees to buckle. "Come to me tonight. Please." The last word was more of a plea than a confident command.

Mary smiled in triumph and spoke quickly without looking at him.

"I suppose you'll just have to see."

She walked away from him and rejoined Sybil and Edith. She felt his eyes on her back and she shivered in delight as she planned their late night rendezvous in her mind.

"See, Mary?" Sybil gushed. "Even you have to admit that Cousin Matthew is a wonderful dancer."

"He's fine, Sybil," Mary replied indifferently, turning around and smiling inwardly as she saw Matthew standing stiffly next to her Papa, his one hand fidgeting with his coat.

"Nothing special," she smirked.

**Chapter 6:**

**Downton Abbey, England, January 1913**

"Matthew, Carson said you were here," Robert smiled as he walked into the library.

"Cousin Robert!" Matthew said rather loudly. "Yes, I…erm…I had a question about one of the farms."

"Fine. I'll have Carson bring the ledgers over and we can have tea. Have a seat," Robert said as he walked towards the cord.

"No!" Matthew exclaimed. Robert turned back to him with a bewildered expression.

"That is, no, you…you needn't do that on my account. Bringing the ledgers out, I mean, and…the tea. Perhaps, erm…perhaps we could walk out and talk. I feel the need for some fresh air," Matthew finished, adding a rather excessive amount of cheer to his voice.

"Well, it's rather cold outside, Matthew," Robert replied, eyeing his heir curiously.

"Of course," Matthew agreed, looking around the room. "But, you see Cousin, I've been trapped in an office all day so some brisk English country air will do me well."

"Very well," Robert smiled carefully. "Let's go out to the hall. Carson can fetch our coats. I suppose that Isis hasn't had her walk yet so she can accompany us."

"Splendid! After you, Cousin," Matthew waved his hand towards the door.

Robert looked at Matthew curiously, then walked towards the door. He looked back at Matthew once again. Matthew smiled at him and Robert continued on into the Great Hall, shaking his head.

Matthew glanced back towards the door to the small library. Mary peeked her head out slightly, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle her laughter. Matthew rolled his eyes at her and walked briskly after the Earl. When the library was once again empty, Mary quickly left in the opposite direction, smiling to herself as she made her escape.

**Crawley House, Downton Village, England, November 1912**

"Your cufflinks, sir."

Matthew reached his hand towards the tray, but then paused. He turned back to the mirror.

"What would you recommend, Molesley?"

"Sir?"

Matthew's gaze remained on his own reflection as he adjusted his shirt sleeves. "The cufflinks. I can't decide what pair would work best. What would you recommend?"

"I…well, sir, with this suit I would think the pearl would work best. They're not as shiny as the silver or as much of a contrast as the gold."

"Very well, Molesley," Matthew said looking at his valet and nodding. "If you say so."

Molesley helped him with the cufflinks and stepped back, rather pleased with himself.

"Will that be all, sir?"

"Just one last thing, Molesley," Matthew said. "I have a rather delicate matter that I wished to speak to you about."

"A delicate matter, sir? It isn't about my performance is it? I can assure you that I am trying my utmost to…"

"No, no, it isn't that, Molesley," Matthew said calmly. "I realize it's taken some time for us, for me, to get used to this arrangement, but I think it's working out."

"Yes, sir," Molesley said in surprise. "It's going very well, if I may so, sir."

"Right. What I meant by delicate is that I need your help with a particular task and unfortunately I cannot give you many details on the matter. Only that I have a friend, more of an acquaintance actually, who requires my assistance, and discretion is of the utmost importance."

"Certainly, sir!" Molesley answered, straightening his back as if he were addressing an army general. "I can be counted on to be discrete, sir."

"Excellent, Molesley," Matthew said, trying to hide his laughter at his valet's behaviour. "Excellent. Now, I will need you to carry out a set of instructions that were provided to me by my friend. They must be followed to the letter. To carry out these instructions you will need to involve several people, all of whom must be sworn to secrecy. I don't even quite understand the instructions myself, but as I say, it's my acquaintance who has organized all of this. No one must know that either my friend or I is involved. Even Mother is not to be told what you are doing, and certainly none of the other servants, either here or at the Big House. If asked, you shall say that you are working on a personal matter as a favour for someone else, not for me. If anyone probes further, you shall tell them it is none of their business as to who you are assisting. If pressed, you shall say you are acting on behalf of a gentleman in London who guards his privacy very closely, and who you have never met yourself. That is all you shall know. The instructions are typewritten. You will have sufficient funds to carry out the instructions and time is of the essence."

"Consider it done, sir," Molesley answered with growing enthusiasm. "Might I ask who else shall be involved in this mission, sir?"

Matthew smiled. "Certainly, Molesley," he said, taking out two envelopes from a drawer and handing them to his valet. "As you can expect, your cohorts live here in the Village, hence the need for our involvement on behalf of my friend. You will also soon see why you are the ideal man for this assignment."

Molesley took the envelopes, swallowing nervously as he realized that one of them contained several crisp banknotes in varying denominations. He looked up at Matthew, who nodded to him. Molesley opened the second envelope and glanced at the list of instructions and the accompanying list of individuals and tasks. The valet frowned at first, then once he read over the materials, he looked back up at his master and smiled.

"Very well, sir. If that will be all, sir, I'll be on my way then."

"Yes, Molesley. Thank you."

Matthew watched Molesley go back downstairs. He looked out from his bedroom window as his valet marched deliberately from Crawley House towards the Village. Matthew shook his head in amusement. He was deathly afraid that Molesley would botch the whole thing, but he didn't have the luxury of involving anyone else in his grand plan.

"Servants," Matthew shook his head. "A man used to be able to carry out a scheme all by himself."

**Downton Abbey, England, February 1913**

"Really, Edith," Mary sighed. "Watching the door will not make them appear any faster."

Edith looked back at her sister with a calm expression. "I don't know what you are referring to."

"Oh please," Mary rolled her eyes. "You've been looking at the door so often that your soup has gone cold. Carson will bring the mail in when it's arrived, Edith. He always does."

"Mary," Sybil said from across the table. "Won't you leave Edith alone? It's entirely understandable that she would be looking forward to today. She just had her Season last summer and she's certain to receive something."

"Thank you, Sybil," Edith smiled brightly before glaring at her older sister. "I don't know why you're so calm, Mary. Shouldn't you be hoping for some deliveries of your own?"

Mary frowned. "A few anonymous cards are hardly anything to make a fuss over," she said indifferently, taking a rather large bite of her sandwich to quell the bile that was rising within her at her sister's veiled insult.

"Well of course she's going to receive something, Edith," Sybil said. "Even if it is anonymous, we all know who one of her Valentines will be from." Sybil paused before whispering to her sisters with a conspiratorial smile. "E.N.!"

Mary glanced quickly down the table to her Mama and Granny. They were deep in conversation and seemed to not have heard the sisters' discussion.

"Anything that I may receive in the post is no one's business but my own," Mary said stiffly. "Sybil, you don't have any suitors now, but you'll learn once you've had your Season that small little gestures like getting cards in the mail are hardly anything to get too excited over compared to…"

Mary was interrupted as Anna stepped into the dining room, drawing everyone's attention.

"Excuse me, Your Ladyship," Anna said politely. "Mr. Carson's asked me to bring in the mail for Lady Edith."

"Of course, Anna," Cora smiled, looking down the table at her daughters, then nodding to Anna. "Please."

Edith nearly clapped her hands in glee as Anna brought the silver tray forward holding three envelopes. Edith opened them happily and took her time in examining each card. One card had delicate lace trim around the edges. The second was on a thicker paper and was written in an elegant script. The third was one of the newer commercial cards that were offered beginning just this year. While Mary thought the first card was too traditional, the second card too simple and the third card simply tacky, Edith beamed at them as if they held the Commandments themselves.

"Edith, how lovely for you, dear," Violet smiled. "Any hints as to who they're from?"

"They're all anonymous of course, Granny," Edith answered. "I expect one of them is from Cousin Matthew, though."

"What?!" Mary shrieked. Her sisters, Mama, Granny and even Anna all stared at her outburst.

"What…makes you think that?" Mary said more calmly, swallowing as she could feel all eyes upon her.

"Well I can't be sure, but I wouldn't be surprised," Edith said nonchalantly, delighting in being the centre of attention. "He knows that I would at least consider his suit without insulting him." Edith looked pointedly at Mary and Mary's eyes narrowed.

"We've been talking, speaking before and after dinners," Edith continued in a casual tone. "I told him we could go and visit the churches in the area if he wanted to. He has an interest in architecture, you know."

Mary almost gnashed her teeth together. "Is that right?" she replied indifferently. "And what was Cousin Matthew's answer to this suggested excursion?"

"He thanked me for raising the idea, and he told me he would discuss it with Cousin Isobel to see if she would join us," Edith said smugly.

"That sounds lovely, dear," Cora commented.

Mary resumed eating. Her initial shock and anger at this possible date between Matthew and Edith vanished as she pictured Matthew bringing his Mother along as a chaperone. It was a clever stroke, she had to admit. He could try and put off Edith for a while, and if that didn't work, having Isobel with them would certainly ensure he wasn't put in any awkward situations. While Mary did not particularly like the increased conversations between Matthew and Edith at dinner, they were hardly the private talks that Edith was making them out to be. Truthfully, Mary knew that Matthew could not entirely ignore Edith, or any member of her family, whenever they were in the same room.

"Thank you, Anna," Cora called. "If that's all from the post, you can go."

"I'm terribly sorry that you didn't get anything, Mary," Edith smiled.

"Edith!" Sybil called. "Don't be so unkind! Mary has a suitor coming next month to visit her. She doesn't need Valentines."

"Well I'm just wondering why, if Mr. Napier is so interested in her, he hasn't bothered to send her a card or letter today. Besides, it's not just him, Sybil. For someone who was so popular during her Season, the lack of cards today must surely be a disappointment. Then again, I suppose her Season was a while ago."

"Edith!" Violet said. "Gloating is hardly ladylike behaviour."

Mary fumed and refused to give Edith the satisfaction of seeing the anger register on her face. She actually didn't care that she had not received any Valentines. No one had written to her Papa seeking permission to write to Mary since the Duke of Crowborough's horrid visit in April of last year, so it was hardly surprising. She had partly expected Evelyn to send something, but then again he was coming to Downton for the Hunt in less than a month's time so any further demonstrations of his feelings were unnecessary. As for Matthew, anything from him would fall under close scrutiny, even if it were sent anonymously, and so she knew he would hold back as well. She also didn't really care that Edith had received three Valentines, so long as one of them wasn't actually from Matthew, and Mary knew he wouldn't dare, if he valued his life.

A snide rejoinder was on the tip of Mary's tongue, waiting to be unleashed.

'_Why would I need a blasted Valentine when I'm going to be Countess of Grantham? And I'll have you know that I've done more in one hour with Matthew in the small library than you'll achieve in a lifetime of church visits!'_

She held back, barely. Now was certainly not the time. Still, seeing Edith get anything over on her, even as a result of a charade, was infuriating Mary. She contemplated swallowing the last of her sandwich in one rude gulp to extricate herself from the dining room as quickly as possible.

"Beg your pardon, Your Ladyship," Anna said, rousing Mary from her thoughts. "It's true that Lady Edith's three Valentines are all that's come, and that there's nothing in the post for Lady Mary. But the reason I delivered the mail instead of Mr. Carson was because he was indisposed."

"Indisposed?" Cora asked. "Indisposed with what?"

"With taking a special delivery, Your Ladyship."

"Special delivery?" Mary asked. "For who?"

"My Lady," Carson called as he entered the dining room. "This just arrived for you by special delivery."

All eyes flew to Carson.

Mary's mouth opened slightly as she stared.

Edith gasped, then covered her mouth to hide her reaction.

Sybil smiled brightly.

Violet raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

Cora's eyes widened in surprise.

Anna smiled demurely as she watched Mary's reaction.

Carson placed a lovely glass vase adorned with red, purple, and blue ribbons in front of Mary. The vase held a dozen gorgeous large red English roses arranged with smaller stems of Lilly-of-the-valley, baby's breath and greenery. The delicate scent wafted across the table.

"My goodness!" Sybil exclaimed. "Mr. Napier spares no expense."

"Apparently not," Violet agreed. "Those didn't come from any ordinary local florist. I have to admit they rival even the ones from my garden."

"You're right," Cora noted. "Besides yours, I've only seen roses that grand in the garden of Mr. Molesley Sr."

Mary blinked.

"Who delivered these, Carson?" Cora asked.

"A boy from the Village, Your Ladyship," Carson answered. "I asked him who hired him for the delivery and he said he didn't know."

"He didn't know?" Cora questioned. "Well, where did he pick up the flowers from?"

"He said from the Butchers, Your Ladyship," Carson replied.

"The Butchers?"

"Apparently he was instructed to pick up the arrangement from the Butchers, Your Ladyship."

"And did he know how they got to the Butchers, Carson?"

"Apparently another boy delivered them there right before he arrived, Your Ladyship."

"This all sounds rather mysterious," Violet chuckled.

"Mary, what's written on the card?" Sybil asked.

Mary took the envelope with her name typed across it from the arrangement. She took out the card and examined it. "It's typewritten, actually," Mary said shakily, her pulse still racing from receiving the flowers. "And it's unsigned."

"Most Valentines are," Cora smiled.

"That is true. However, it is curious that a suitor would not want to take credit for something so extravagant," Violet mused.

"So what does it say?" Sybil asked enthusiastically.

"Sybil!" Cora frowned.

"What? Such a romantic gesture should be accompanied by a lovely verse or two. Let's hear it."

"That's for Mary to read, not you."

"If the card is unsigned, then how do we know it's from Mr. Napier? They could be from anyone," Edith spat, glaring at the flowers as if hoping her stare could cause them to wilt prematurely.

Mary blinked again.

"Oh don't be silly, Edith," Cora said gently. "Who else could it be? Clearly Mr. Napier is making a grand gesture to Mary ahead of his arrival next month. Mary, dear, you should remember this when you see him. Don't be too obvious of course, but a polite thank you is appropriate."

"Yes," Mary replied, her eyes moving from the large roses to the red, purple and blue ribbons on the vase and back to the card. "I will need to thank my admirer properly for these beautiful roses."

"Anna, we're almost done here. Bring Lady Mary's roses to the library so she can enjoy them while she reads this afternoon, then change the water and take them upstairs to her bedroom before dinner," Cora instructed.

"Yes, Your Ladyship."

**The Crystal Palace, London, England, April 1911**

"And what is this?" Mary asked.

"I believe I am the one asking the questions, Lady Mary," Matthew smiled.

Mary smiled and looked away as a slight blush coloured her cheeks. She glanced up at the glass ceiling to try and distract herself. Why did he have to look at her like that? And why did it always have the same effect on her?

"We'll get back to the game shortly, Matthew. I'm curious about this sculpture."

Matthew looked at it briefly before smiling as he recognized the piece.

"This is the entrance to the Renaissance Court," he said confidently. "And that is the Nymph of Fontainebleau by Cellini, or at least a reasonable version of the original sculpture. It's considered an ode to feminine beauty from that period."

Mary blushed again and looked away from the naked female form sculpted above the doorway as they went through.

"Now, back to my questions," Matthew said, as they continued their stroll. "How many more do I have?"

"Seven, I believe," Mary said thoughtfully, pausing as several children walked past them.

"All right, seven questions. Favourite colour?"

"Matthew, once again, you're not doing this right," Mary said gently. "You're supposed to be asking me twenty questions that have a simple yes or no answer, and the questions must all be related. You're supposed to be finding clues to the final answer, not asking twenty individual questions about me."

"Fine. Yes or no. Is your favourite colour green?"

"No. Matthew, are you going to play this game properly or are you going to use your remaining questions to try and find out my favourite colour?" His interest in her preferences made Mary smile.

"Why not?" he smiled back. "There can't be that many possible colours that you prefer."

"If you must know, I tend to favour red, purple and blue. I rather like darker shades. Yellow or orange always seemed too garish to me."

"Red, purple and blue," Matthew repeated. "There, see? I'm learning more about you already. What about your favourite author?"

"You'll expect me to say Austen, I'm sure. But recently, I've been reading Oscar Wilde."

"Really?" Matthew exclaimed in surprise. "I wouldn't expect that from an Earl's daughter."

"Oh, I rather enjoy being unpredictable, Matthew," Mary smiled. "What about you? Do you have time for reading beyond legal texts and journals?"

"I try and make the time," Matthew answered, taking her teasing in stride. "I'm afraid my interests are more classical, however. Sophocles, Euripides, Homer, Shakespeare, Marlowe, that sort of thing."

"My Governess would have been impressed with you," Mary laughed. "Greek mythology, Matthew? I've never spent much time on it. The tales always seemed rather boring, actually."

"Perhaps I could read to you sometime?" Matthew suggested playfully. "Maybe I'll be able to hold your interest?"

Mary looked at his confident stare. Rather than blush and look away, she eyed him mischievously.

"Maybe you will," she said quietly.

**Downton Abbey, England, February 1913**

After she finished her lunch, Mary excused herself. She ignored Edith making a show of re-reading her Valentines yet again and went to the library. Mary scanned the shelves purposefully before finding the tome she was looking for. She sat down on the settee and admired her roses sitting on the table. Smiling, Mary read her Valentine's card, then opened the book and flipped to the precise page she was seeking. She glanced at the typewritten message again.

"_O dear Lady Mary, I am ill at these numbers._ – Act II, Scene ii, lines 116-124."

Scanning the page of the book, Mary found the corresponding passage. Her smile grew wider. She covered her mouth with her hand to stop the fit of giggles that were threatening to erupt from her chest.

"_Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love…I have not art to reckon my groans; but that I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu. Thine evermore dear lady, whilst this machine is to him._"

"Mary?"

"Sybil!" Mary looked up and hid the card underneath the book as her youngest sister came into the room.

"What are you reading?"

"Hamlet," Mary smiled.

"Oh. That's a rather tragic story to be reading on Valentine's Day."

"I suppose," Mary agreed. "But I'm finding there are some nice parts to it as well."

"These flowers are so lovely," Sybil sighed, sitting down on the opposite sofa and looking at Mary's roses.

"They certainly are. They must have taken weeks to grow."

"So this was all planned far in advance?" Sybil asked.

"I couldn't tell you, but it seems a great deal of effort was put into it," Mary answered happily.

"Do you think that Mr. Napier expects a lot from you, Mary? What I mean to say is, when a man makes such an obvious gesture, is he expecting something equally grand in return?"

"Mr. Napier's intentions may be plain," Mary replied slowly. "But as for his expectations of me, I don't think that's very important. What counts is what my intentions are."

"And what are your intentions?" Sybil asked innocently. "Are you going to marry him?"

"Sybil!"

"Well not just because he sent you flowers, of course! I'm just wondering what you would look for in a husband, what you think you should consider."

Mary looked at Sybil with patient understanding. "Darling, yes, you shouldn't marry a man simply because he sends you flowers. It's far more complicated than that, and far too long a discussion for me to have with you now," she said. "Although, I think it's fair to say that I would be a fool to not seriously consider marrying the man who sent me these beautiful roses, knowing him as I believe I do."

Sybil grinned at her sister and Mary smiled back, pleased with herself at such a mischievous turn of phrase. Mary looked back at her book and reread the passage, thinking of precisely how she would properly thank her admirer at her next opportunity.

**Crawley House, Downton Village, England, September 1912**

"You can take the horses for a trot nearby, if you like, Lynch. I expect to be a while with my new cousins. I'll come back out when I'm ready to leave," Mary said firmly.

Lynch hesitated, before a raised eyebrow from Lady Mary convinced him there was no room for argument. He nodded and took Diamond by the reins, escorting both horses down the path.

Mary walked towards the door, her spirits rising with each step and her pulse quickening. She wet her lips before knocking firmly.

The door swung open and Mary stared, unable to speak or move for what seemed like minutes.

"Hello," a familiar voice greeted her, as blue eyes and curved lips grabbed her attention.

"Hello. I'm looking for Matthew Crawley," she stated with a raised eyebrow.

"And you have found him," he smiled. "And you are?"

"Lady Mary!" came an anxious voice from down the hall. Matthew sighed and stepped aside as Molesley came forward.

"Lady Mary, I apologize. I was upstairs attending to Mr. Crawley's luggage and I didn't hear the door." Molesley's eyes went wide as he realized that Matthew had answered the door himself. "Mr. Crawley! Sir, I am sorry that I didn't answer the door. I was upstairs, you see, and…"

"It's all right, Molesley," Matthew held up his hands. "I am perfectly capable of answering the door to my own home."

"That doesn't mean you should," Mary said. She turned to Molesley. "Mr. Crawley and I will take tea in the sitting room."

"Of course! Of course, Lady Mary! Right away!"

Molesley held the door and Matthew awkwardly stood by as Mary walked past both of them and into the sitting room. She smiled to herself as she removed her riding gloves and took a seat.

Matthew came into the room and moved towards the seat next to hers. Mary raised her eyebrow at him.

"Perhaps you would be more comfortable sitting across from me, Cousin Matthew," Mary smirked.

"What? Oh, of course you're right, Cousin Mary," Matthew mumbled, taking the seat further away from her.

Molesley came in with tea and biscuits and served both of them. Matthew sipped his tea thoughtfully as he looked at Mary.

"Thank you, Molesley," Mary said smoothly. "That will be all. I have a great deal to discuss with Mr. Crawley before dinner this evening at Downton Abbey. Please make sure his white tie and tails are pressed and ready for him later, and please inform the other servants that we aren't to be disturbed."

"Yes, my Lady," Molesley bowed deeply and left the room.

"Is your mother home? I would invite her to join us," Mary asked.

"No. Mother is walking around the Village for the afternoon, I believe. She mentioned something about going to see the Cottage Hospital."

"So it's just the two of us, then?" Mary said idly as she sipped her tea.

"It would appear that way, yes," Matthew said, taking another sip from his own cup.

Mary put her tea cup down. "Would you like a tour?"

"Pardon?"

"Crawley House. It's been in my family for generations. I used to come here as a child rather often. I can show you around, explain to you how things are done around here."

"I would appreciate that very much, Lady Mary, thank you."

"Let's start with the downstairs study. It should be just down the hall I believe."

Matthew followed her down the hall and into a study at the back of the house. The drapes were drawn and the desk and shelves were immaculately clean.

Matthew closed the door and turned towards her. Mary approached him with a sly grin. Matthew grabbed her and pulled her to him. They kissed soundly. Matthew tried to stay quiet as he groaned and held her in his arms.

"Mary," he gasped. "I can't believe you're here. Even when I received your letter after hearing from your father, I couldn't dare to hope."

He kissed her again.

"Matthew, darling," Mary sighed happily. "It's true. I'm here. We're together." She laughed quietly as they kissed again.

"You can't kiss me, or hold me, or look at me adoringly when we see each other tonight. My Mama only sent me here to welcome you and invite you and your mother to dine with us at eight."

"It will be torture," Matthew said. "I recall what your letter said about acting indifferently towards each other. Although I confess I don't necessarily understand all of it."

"I'll explain later. For tonight, please act as if we've just met," Mary pleaded.

"That's easy enough," Matthew grinned, pulling her closer. "I'm having many of the same thoughts now as I did when we first met."

"Matthew! I meant act as if we've just met and you think me ordinary." She became distracted by his lips on her neck.

"That may prove rather impossible, darling," Matthew murmured as he continued to kiss her. "Even on first glance, it's clear you are far from ordinary."

"Heavens!" Mary teased. "It appears I have an admirer," she smiled as she turned her head to allow him to kiss behind her ear.

"Undoubtedly," Matthew whispered. "An admirer with very serious intentions, Lady Mary."

"Then I shall need to give serious consideration to his offer," she said seductively.

"Please do," Matthew sighed. "Mary, it is going to be extremely difficult for me to be so close to you and not act…improperly."

"Well, you'll just have to distract yourself," Mary replied, relaxing in his embrace. "Focus on Edith. Any thoughts of desire or impropriety will be quickly forgotten when you look at her."

"I see things have not changed at all between you and Edith," Matthew smiled. "Now, more importantly, you were saying something about being sent here to welcome me? I must admit I have never had such an alluring reception committee."

Mary laughed as he leaned into her and they kissed once more. She was ecstatic that he was here, and her mind filled with all that lay before them. So long as they could follow her plan, she would soon have everything she could ever want.

**Downton Abbey, England, February 1913**

"Cousin Matthew!"

"Sybil!" Matthew blinked, looking around the room as he entered the library. "How are you?" he said, still glancing about.

"Very well, thank you," Sybil smiled. "Were you looking for Papa?"

"Erm…yes, yes I was looking for your father."

"He's gone to the Village. Meeting with some tenants, I think. Carson must have mentioned it when you arrived?"

"Yes, that's right, he did say that. I meant that I came here looking for your father, and Carson said he wasn't here, so I decided to come into the library and read for a bit until dinner."

"Won't you need to go back to Crawley House and change?" Sybil asked.

"Yes," Matthew nodded slowly. "Yes, I will need to do that. Office attire isn't appropriate for dinner."

"Well, feel free to sit until then," Sybil smiled, going back to her book.

Matthew looked around nervously, then blindly took a book from the shelf and sat down on the settee across the table from Sybil. Looking around again, Matthew opened the book and began to read.

"Austen," he grumbled, staring at the book cover for the first time.

"Pardon, Cousin Matthew?" Sybil looked up.

"Nothing, Sybil," Matthew answered. "I was just…erm…thinking out loud."

"Mary! Cousin Matthew is here," Sybil said cheerfully, looking past Matthew.

"So he is," Mary answered, looking at the two of them smugly. She walked into the library, a book in hand, and took a seat on the sofa next to her sister.

"Cousin Mary."

"Cousin Matthew," she replied, opening her book.

Sybil went back to reading. Mary looked up from her book and glanced at Matthew. She smirked and raised her eyebrow as she saw his book. Matthew rolled his eyes at her, then nodded pointedly in Sybil's direction as he looked at Mary imploringly.

Mary gave him an innocent look of confusion.

Matthew's eyes widened pleadingly.

Mary smiled.

"Sybil, darling," Mary said sweetly. "Could you go and tell Mama and Mrs. Hughes that Cousin Matthew will be joining us for dinner? They may not have been told before Papa left for the Village."

"Oh, right! I'm sorry, Cousin Matthew. I should have thought to do that when you arrived. If you'll excuse me, both of you."

"No apology necessary, Sybil. I should have mentioned it to Carson myself."

Sybil put her book down and got up from the sofa, walking quickly out to the Great Hall in search of Cora.

Matthew moved to put his book down on the table. He quickly snapped it back in front of him as Anna entered the library.

"Milady, Mr. Crawley," she nodded.

"Come in, Anna," Mary called, smiling as Anna carried Mary's roses into the library and placed them on the table.

"Here you are, Milady. I just changed the water."

"Those flowers are spectacular," Matthew smiled.

"They are rather nice," Mary replied calmly, smirking as Matthew frowned slightly at her. "Anna, you can bring them up to my bedroom when it's time for me to change for dinner."

"Yes, Milady. Mr. Crawley," Anna curtsied.

"Anna," Matthew nodded.

When Anna left the room, Matthew put his book down again, glancing about to make sure no one else was coming. He waited for Mary to put her book down as well so they could move to the small library. She made no attempt to do so and kept reading.

"Cousin Mary," Matthew said quietly.

"Yes, Cousin Matthew?" Mary answered, not looking up from her book.

"I'm looking for a particular book that I saw last week in the small library. Will you assist me in looking for it?" he asked with a frown.

"I'm quite comfortable here, but feel free to use the small library if you wish," Mary said, barely suppressing her grin as she stared intently at her book.

"Well I'm not entirely familiar with the small library so your assistance would be greatly appreciated," Matthew said in frustration.

Mary looked up at Matthew with a teasing smile. She closed her book and put it down.

"Certainly, Cousin Matthew. I believe I can help you find just what you're looking for."

Matthew grinned. He moved to rise from the sofa when suddenly they heard footsteps approaching. Mary and Matthew looked at each other with wide eyes. They each grabbed their books and sat back down quickly.

"It's all taken care of, Cousin Matthew," Sybil said pleasantly as she bounded back into the room and took her seat on the sofa next to Mary. She picked up her book once again.

"Thank you, Sybil," Matthew said through gritted teeth. Mary almost laughed as she watched him struggle to control himself.

Sybil resumed reading. After several moments, Matthew looked beyond his book and caught Mary's amused gaze looking back at him.

Matthew looked at Mary and nodded his head, first towards Sybil, then towards the small library, his face furious now.

Mary shook her head slightly at him and shrugged her shoulders.

Matthew rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Something wrong, Cousin Matthew?" Sybil asked as she looked up at the sound of his sharp breath.

"I'm afraid that I'm finding this book rather frustrating," Matthew said coldly.

"Well feel free to try another, Cousin Matthew," Mary said flippantly, turning the page of her book.

"That's a wonderful suggestion, Cousin Mary, thank you," Matthew replied.

He waited for Sybil to go back to her reading. He closed his book, rose from the sofa and walked towards the shelves. After several minutes, he smiled to himself as he found the book he was looking for.

Matthew turned and went back to the settee. As he walked past the sofa, he deliberately trailed his fingers along the edge of the armrest. With Mary's body blocking Sybil's view, Matthew ran his hand lightly across Mary's shoulder, then along her bare arm.

Mary shivered at the feel of his fingers on her skin.

"Mary? Are you all right?" Sybil looked up as she heard Mary gasp.

Matthew had already sat down on the settee and opened his book. He looked over at her with exaggerated concern.

"I'm all right, darling," Mary said to Sybil. "This story I'm reading is becoming rather intriguing."

"Really? And what are you reading, Cousin Mary?" Matthew asked.

"An Ideal Husband," Mary said pointedly. "I'm reading the scene where Lady Chiltern discovers that Sir Robert can be, like many men, rather annoying."

"That does sound intriguing," Sybil agreed. She then looked away from both Mary and Matthew and resumed her reading.

Mary glared fiercely at Matthew. Matthew returned her stare. He nodded again in Sybil's direction and more forcefully in the direction of the small library, begging Mary with his eyes to do something. Mary frowned and her eyes narrowed at him.

"Did you find better reading, Cousin Matthew?" Sybil asked.

"I did, Sybil, thank you," Matthew answered with a smile. "I decided to have another go at Hamlet."

Mary looked at him and her stern gaze softened.

"What a coincidence!" Sybil exclaimed. "Mary was just reading that on Valentine's Day."

Matthew blinked and stared at Mary.

Mary smiled at him, using her book to shield her face from Sybil.

"You read Hamlet on Valentine's Day," he repeated, smirking at her.

"Yes," she smiled back at him. "I never realized how some passages from it could be so utterly beautiful."

"Isn't my sister bewildering sometimes?" Sybil laughed, looking back at her book. "Reading a tragedy on Valentine's Day! Goodness."

Matthew looked over at Sybil, then looked back at Mary. He swallowed, then smirked as he looked at her with an earnest expression that made her blush.

"Were you surprised? By the flowers?" Matthew asked.

"Yes, I was," Mary replied quietly, glancing at Sybil and noticing she was still reading her book and not looking at them. "They're gorgeous," Mary grinned. "It's a shame that my admirer did not sign the card. Now I don't know who I need to thank."

"Oh, Mary, you know who they're from! And you can thank him properly when he arrives next month," Sybil chastised, looking at her, then smiling before going back to her reading.

Matthew's eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to reply, then stopped and composed himself.

"Well, be that as it may…if you were to come face-to-face with this admirer, how exactly would you thank him for such a lovely gesture?"

Mary blinked, looking at Matthew's confident smirk and teasing gaze. She had assumed he would be livid at the reference to Evelyn. She looked down at her hands and smiled.

"Well I believe that is a personal matter between my admirer and me, Cousin Matthew," Mary said with feigned haughtiness.

"I'm simply curious, Cousin Mary," Matthew said with great effort. "Be as revealing or as vague as you wish. I do not mean to pry."

Matthew raised his eyebrows mischievously to her and Mary blushed at his cheek. He was being rather bold speaking to her in such a manner with Sybil sitting beside her.

"Very well. Without getting into precise detail, once I learned the identity of my admirer, I would give him a polite thank you for the lovely roses. They appear to be a rather special breed. I suspect it may have taken weeks to grow them."

"Months perhaps," Matthew said, meeting her gaze. "There may only be one person in all of Downton Village capable of growing such flowers, and arrangements would have had to been made back in late autumn to ensure they were in bloom in time for Valentine's Day. Or so I would think."

Mary smiled at him.

"Such an effort is certainly deserving of gratitude," Mary agreed. "Once appropriate appreciation had been given, I would need to determine my admirer's intentions of course."

"I would think his intentions would be rather obvious," Matthew answered.

"Oh I don't know," Mary looked away. "Suitors can be fickle, Cousin Matthew. They may write all manner of lovely prose, smile and cajole you with their attentions, even pay you a visit and whisper to you in private. Then, come the morning, when they are bored or realize that your settlement isn't as large as they suspected, they disappear, never to be seen again."

Matthew frowned. He was about to ask Mary what in heaven's name she was talking about when he noticed she was looking down at her hands, her brow slightly creased, as if she were trying to forget a painful memory.

"Well that sounds rather horrible," Sybil interjected. "But surely whoever sent you these flowers is not a man of such ill manners."

"I would think not, Sybil," Mary answered, looking over at her youngest sister. "But one can never be too careful about the true thoughts of a man, isn't that right, Cousin Matthew?" she asked looking at him pointedly.

"Cousin Mary," Matthew said softly. "I know nothing of the ways of suitors. I have only been part of Society for a mere six months."

Mary nodded and smiled at him.

"However, let me assure you of two things if I may – first, the man who sent you those roses, and who wrote the Valentine that must have accompanied them, the man who went to the effort to try and give you a meaningful gesture of his feelings for you on Valentine's Day, that man must surely have good intentions. You see, he wouldn't know how many other Valentines you would receive. He wouldn't know how many other suitors he may be competing with for your regard. And more importantly, he wouldn't, couldn't know whether upon learning his identity you would be touched by his effort, or disappointed in seeing his true face. So, it seems to me that he bravely made this attempt in the hope that it would at least hold your interest, and cause you to pay attention to him, if only for a brief while."

Mary blinked.

"That sounds far more chivalrous and romantic," Sybil said gleefully.

"Cousin Matthew," Mary said softly. "I certainly hope what you say is true, for it would mean that my admirer is as fine a prize as these lovely flowers."

Matthew smiled.

"And the second thing that you spoke of?" Mary asked.

"Right. Well, it's only my opinion of course, but any suitor who would approach a lady with less honourable intentions is hardly worthy of anyone's time. I would even go so far to say such a scoundrel who would leave a lady abandoned in such a manner is too daft to realize the true prize he is forsaking."

"That's almost poetic, Cousin Matthew," Sybil smiled.

"Yes, well, Mother always told me to treat ladies with respect," Matthew smiled sheepishly.

"Beg your pardon, my ladies, Mr. Crawley."

"Yes, Carson," Mary called, shaken from her own thoughts as she contemplated Matthew's words.

"The dressing gong will be ringing shortly. I would ask if Mr. Crawley would want us to send a footman for his dinner attire so he can change here."

"No, thank you, Carson," Matthew replied, rising from the settee. "I'll just run home and change."

"Very well, sir," Carson nodded, waiting at the doorway to escort him out.

With both Sybil and Carson staring at him, Matthew realized he was now forced to leave.

"Until dinner then," he said with forced enthusiasm. "Cousin Sybil," he nodded.

"I'll see you shortly, Cousin Matthew," Sybil smiled back at him.

Matthew looked at Mary. She rose from the sofa, then stood still as she stopped herself from stepping towards him. They locked eyes briefly.

"Cousin Mary," Matthew nodded.

"Cousin Matthew," Mary replied quietly. "I…we shall see you at dinner."

Matthew nodded to her, then followed Carson out of the library.

Mary looked to the window and watched Matthew walk down the driveway and into the distance.


	7. Chapter 7

**Previously:**

**Downton Abbey, England, February 1913**

With both Sybil and Carson staring at him, Matthew realized he was now forced to leave.

"Until dinner then," he said with forced enthusiasm. "Cousin Sybil," he nodded.

"I'll see you shortly, Cousin Matthew," Sybil smiled back at him.

Matthew looked at Mary. She rose from the sofa, then stood still as she stopped herself from stepping towards him. They locked eyes briefly.

"Cousin Mary," Matthew nodded.

"Cousin Matthew," Mary replied quietly. "I…we shall see you at dinner."

Matthew nodded to her, then followed Carson out of the library.

Mary looked to the window and watched Matthew walk down the driveway and into the distance.

**Chapter 7:**

**Downton Abbey, England, March 1913**

"Edith, come make a fourth for bridge," Violet called.

Edith smiled apologetically to Matthew and left him to join her Mama, Granny and one of the neighbours at the table. Matthew found himself suddenly alone. He glanced around the room. Robert was speaking with two of the other dinner guests, neighbours who had rode with them in the Hunt. Sybil was speaking to Matthew's Mother, and Mary was speaking with Evelyn Napier and the foreign diplomat, Kemal Pamuk.

Matthew felt the familiar pang of jealousy well up inside of him as he saw Evelyn smiling at Mary. Their easy manner with each other, born from years of visits between their families, was evident once again. Matthew sighed to himself. The proper thing to do was to join his Mother and Sybil in conversation and leave Mary to entertain her guests. Viscount Branksome's son was a respectable suitor and Mary had an obligation to attend to him. Matthew had no right to cut into their conversation or try and visibly compete for Mary's attention. As far as everyone else in the room was aware, he was just her fourth cousin, and he, like the rest of the family, was supposed to give Mary and Evelyn space. Privately, he agreed to let Mary discourage Evelyn in her own time. He had to just get through this visit and all would be back to normal. Well, their current version of normal anyway.

"Drink, sir?"

Matthew turned and Thomas offered the tray to him. Matthew's hand moved from the sherry and picked up a brandy snifter instead. He gazed at the liquid for a while, swirling it around. He looked over at Mary as he brought the glass to his lips and took a long pull. He savoured the heat of the drink.

"Thank you, Barrow," Matthew said absentmindedly. Just because he wasn't supposed to compete openly for Mary's attention did not mean he had to stay away from her either, he decided. His eyes narrowed and he stepped purposefully towards Mary and her two guests.

Robert placed his hand on Cora's shoulder. She continued to play her card game and smiled at his touch.

"Mary is rather popular this evening," Robert smiled as he observed Matthew join Evelyn Napier and Kemal Pamuk speaking with their daughter.

Edith did not bother looking up. She played a card and her lip curled ruefully at her Papa's comment.

Mary looked up and felt her skin warm. What was Matthew doing approaching her in front of everyone? He knew she was supposed to entertain Evelyn and his guest. His gaze seemed very serious, almost determined, rather than the detached and indifferent look that she asked him to use when they were with her family. Despite her surprise, she was secretly glad for his presence. She did not know how much longer she could keep her fake hostess smile in place. Evelyn seemed to only talk about his job and responsibilities, and had a rather annoying habit of turning every topic of conversation back to himself.

Kemal Pamuk was polite, but there was something about the way he looked at Mary that made her uneasy. It was not the gaze of a guest invited to an English Country House for the first time or the courteous look of a dignitary. The way his gaze lingered on her was far more casual than Mary liked, as if he was almost appraising her in a way.

Pamuk had spent the Hunt with Mary and Evelyn. He was often ready with a wry comment that seemed to always suggest a hidden meaning. Mary always enjoyed the Hunt and having the excuse to put Diamond through his paces was most welcome. The company, she discovered, was not. Evelyn was at least wise enough to eventually allow her some respite when Mary barely responded to his stories. Pamuk on the other hand seemed to enjoy the sound of his own voice so much that it didn't matter if anyone was engaging him in conversation or not. Mary pushed Diamond forward rather often as a result, giving her at least momentary freedom from both Evelyn and Pamuk before they caught up with her again.

Sadly at dinner she had found Evelyn and Pamuk to her left and right. It hadn't been a surprise of course, given her Mama deftly arranging it, but it was a depressing precursor to what Mary was enduring now that they'd come through. She had responded to their comments with feigned interest, even laughing and smiling when appropriate, but inside she was bored to tears. She was further perturbed to see Matthew sitting out of the reach of her voice at the other end of the dinner table. She could still look at him, and God he looked handsome in white tie tonight. But she could not smile at him, or talk to him fondly, or allow her glance to linger too long. 'I'll make it up to him' she promised yet again.

Pamuk excused himself. He looked pointedly at Mary before turning and walking away across the room. Mary looked at Matthew and smiled demurely, giving her the chance to pause before having to turn and talk to Evelyn again.

To their collective surprise, Evelyn's attention was suddenly taken, however, by a guest who wanted to discuss the latest developments in India. Seeing that Evelyn was now occupied, Mary turned back to Matthew, who seemed entirely pleased with this new development.

"What?" Mary whispered to him.

"Nothing," Matthew whispered back. "I'm just very sorry that your suitor is unable to pay you proper attention." Mary found Matthew's smirk rather ungentlemanly and yet adorable just the same.

Mary's eyes narrowed. "Your regret seems rather disingenuous, Cousin Matthew," she whispered in mock disapproval.

"Why would you think that, Cousin Mary?" Matthew challenged.

"I don't believe you are sorry at all, in fact," Mary answered. "I think you are quite pleased that Evelyn's attention has been diverted."

"If you are accusing me of wanting to monopolize all of your time, then you are correct," Matthew replied smoothly.

"That is quite improper of you, Cousin Matthew." Mary arched her eyebrow at him, all the while feeling a lightness in her chest. It was dangerous for him to be flirting with her so openly with her family and guests all around them. Evelyn could turn back at any moment. Despite the risk, Mary was far from annoyed at his boldness. On the contrary, she found it rather arousing.

"If what you say is correct," Matthew whispered, causing her to swallow as he set his blue eyes upon her. "You will have to forgive me twice then, Cousin Mary, for I assure you that my improper words towards you are only exceeded by my improper thoughts in this moment."

Mary could not completely stifle a gasp at his teasing words and his deliberate show of looking at her lips before regaining eye contact. She glanced about quickly, ensuring Evelyn's attention was still on his conversation.

She noticed Kemal Pamuk staring at her from across the room. He smiled at her and beckoned her with a slight movement of his head. Mary blinked in shock. He was summoning her? How presumptuous! Whatever for?

Mary sighed. She was tired of both Evelyn and his guest. She did not think she could use the excuse of a headache to extricate herself from the situation though. Her Mama's orders were clear. It was important for them to show their guests some English hospitality. Mary had gamely carried out her duty on numerous evenings like this one, and with Evelyn now occupied, she could not leave his guest unattended.

She looked back at Matthew, her eyes silently pleading for him to understand.

"Excuse me, please," she said before walking away towards the foreign diplomat at the other end of the room.

Matthew was surprised by her sudden departure. He watched as she joined Kemal Pamuk across the room and answered his questions about a painting on the wall.

"I'm sorry, where did Lady Mary go off to?" Evelyn asked as he turned back to see Mary was no longer standing beside him.

"It appears that we have failed to capture her interest," Matthew said drily, trying to mask the hurt in his voice. He knew Mary was merely doing her duty, but that was part of the problem, wasn't it? Her duty always seemed to take priority. Would it be such a disaster if Pamuk was left alone long enough for Matthew to have an actual conversation with Mary?

"I never should have brought him here," Evelyn spat as he watched them across the room.

Matthew turned away from Mary and Pamuk and looked at Evelyn inquisitively. The nobleman seemed almost dejected, like a child discovering his favourite toy was broken.

"Do you not like him?" Matthew asked.

"On the contrary, I like him very much. Unfortunately, so does everyone else," Evelyn said, his eyes never leaving Mary and Pamuk as he took another sip of his drink.

Matthew frowned at the comment. Clearly Evelyn did not know Mary nearly as well as Matthew suspected if he thought her interest could be held by a foreign diplomat she had just met. Mary met dignitaries and aristocrats on a regular basis and was polite with them all, easily changing her demeanour to match whatever mood was required. She had been schooled very well in such matters, just as her sisters had been. That did not mean she liked any of them, or even found any of them remotely interesting. She was simply doing what was expected. Matthew believed he had grown rather adept at determining when Mary was wearing her mask of polite Lady and when she was being genuine. To know that Evelyn Napier could not tell the difference filled Matthew with a strange sense of relief. He made his excuses to Evelyn and walked over to join Sybil and his Mother, his step now much lighter.

**The Crystal Palace, London, England, April 1911**

"Matthew, there you are."

Matthew looked up and nodded curtly to a man he barely knew. He turned back to the dance floor and took another sip of his brandy.

"Lady Mary looks rather stunning this evening doesn't she?"

"Yes, she does," Matthew replied, hoping his unwanted companion would take the hint that he was in no mood for conversation.

Mary was dancing with yet another nobleman, some Marquess of somewhere who Matthew did not quite recognize and who's name he could not recall. The Marquess whispered to her. She smiled. He smiled. She laughed. Matthew took a longer sip of his drink.

"Her debut Season is this summer, you know? I expect she'll be quite popular, what with her being the eldest daughter of the Earl of Grantham."

Matthew barely acknowledged the comment as he turned away and gulped down the rest of his drink.

"Of course only Society is invited to such events. It's a shame isn't it, Matthew? It's almost cruelly unfair to be so close to such a beautiful woman and know that your background and prospects will never be good enough for her."

The comment was meant to be figurative and innocent, and it would have been taken as such if Matthew's mind was not already filled with trepidation.

"Excuse me," Matthew snapped, setting his empty glass down and walking swiftly to the glass doors leading to the terrace.

The Spring evening air was cool and Matthew welcomed it as a shield against what he had witnessed indoors for the past hour. He looked out across Sydenham Hill and frowned as he saw the lights of the large homes in the distance glowing back, another reminder of _that_ world, of _her _world.

Matthew sighed. He knew it was foolish to feel so jealous. One needed a right to be jealous, and Matthew had none. He knew he should be back inside, shaking hands with investors and smiling at patrons, doing his duty, rather than thinking about Mary and her leaving the next day. Mere hours separated him from saying goodbye to Mary forever, and he could not shake the sense of dread inside of him.

As he heard the band play another waltz from inside the hall, he tried to compose himself to go back in. Perhaps he could find Sir Campbell and engage him in conversation about his approaching retirement. That would surely help keep his eyes and mind away from…

"So here is where you've escaped to."

Matthew's eyes widened at the melody of her voice. He slowly turned as she came up beside him. He saw dark eyes and raised eyebrows, curled lips and alabaster skin all conspiring to lure him into her spell once again.

He fell willingly.

"I needed some air," he managed.

"Some air? Funny, I thought you came out here to avoid dancing with me." Mary arched an eyebrow in accusation, but her tone was light, as if she already knew she was right and was daring him to disagree.

"No, I wouldn't deliberately avoid dancing with you," Matthew replied quickly. "I just didn't expect you to dance with me, not when your card is already quite full."

"Well I can't be expected to reserve a dance for a man who doesn't even have the courtesy to ask me, can I?" Mary answered confidently. Matthew blinked in surprise.

"I would have asked you," Matthew nodded. "But I just assumed that…"

"You assumed that what?" Mary stepped closer to him. "You assumed that I wouldn't dance with you if you asked me? Really, Matthew, has our time together taught you nothing?"

He swallowed as she neared him.

"It's not that I thought you wouldn't dance with me!" he stated defensively, trying to regain control of the conversation. "I meant to say that I just assumed that you were already occupied for the evening."

"Hmm," Mary pursed her lips and looked up, as if contemplating his answer. "You assumed that because there are all manner of nobles and gentlemen at tonight's gala that I wouldn't have any time for you, is that it?"

The silence between them provided her answer quite loudly, but Matthew capitulated all the same. "Yes, I suppose that is what I thought," Matthew admitted.

"Because I am a Lady and the daughter of the Earl of Grantham and you are just a son of a Doctor from Manchester. So of course I would have no use for you when surrounded by Society, correct?"

Matthew tried to look away as shame and embarrassment built within him, but Mary's penetrating gaze held him immobile.

"If that's the case, then please explain why I have walked out with you, and _only_ you, each day for the past month since we met?" Mary continued, taking another step towards him. "How many gentlemen have I laughed with and debated with and talked to during my stay in London? How many _other_ men do you think I've kissed in the past month, Matthew?"

Matthew swallowed, his neutral expression burned away by her words and her stare. His eyes looked from hers down to her lips and back up to her eyes again. Mary was relentless in her gaze and her words.

"Do you think me so shallow that I would spend so much time with you, then abandon you on the evening before I leave?"

She was standing dangerously close to him now. He could smell her perfume and see the fire in her eyes, even in the low light of the terrace.

Matthew stared at her, mesmerized and speechless.

"Perhaps I misjudged you, Matthew," Mary whispered. "I thought, when faced with the prospect of our parting, that you would do everything in your power to give us a memory together, rather than simply shy away and wallow in self-pity. But, if you are so resigned to our time together ending this evening without so much as a dance, then I shall leave you to it."

Mary looked pointedly at his lips, then turned back towards the hall.

"Mary!" Matthew called, stepping towards her as she turned back around.

Matthew raised his hands out to her in invitation.

"May I have this dance, Lady Mary?"

Mary grinned and placed her hand in his, her other hand going to his shoulder. She shivered as his arm wrapped into place across her back. They picked up the rhythm of the waltz as the music filtered out on to the terrace. He pulled her closer and she obliged willingly, fitting herself against his shoulder as they swayed together.

"I'm sorry, Mary," Matthew whispered. "I would never want to let you go without holding you one last time. It just hit me so heavily tonight, knowing your Season is mere months away and everything that will happen afterward. I couldn't help but think that…"

"Matthew, darling," Mary interrupted him. "I know very well what my future holds. I've known it for years. And that is why tonight is so very important to me. I know I am terrible about showing it, but I am dreading leaving you, Matthew. You must know that our parting saddens me just as much as it does you. But you taught me to live each moment, remember? So, if we still have precious hours left to us this evening, then…"

"Then we shall live each remaining moment, together," Matthew replied.

He twirled her quickly away from the door and towards a darker corner of the terrace. He leaned towards her and she smiled at him before titling her head invitingly. Their eyes closed. Their lips met. They kissed, willing the night to hold them together for several blissful moments longer.

**Downton Abbey, England, March 1913**

"What is it? Mr. Pamuk you ought to return to the drawing room. We've kept this room dark for a reason," Mary stated as she followed Kemal Pamuk into the sitting room where he stopped before a large painting.

Mary realized belatedly that there was no one else here but them. She looked back over her shoulder at the threshold of the door, the light of the drawing room barely following her.

"Is this picture really a Della Francesca?" he asked.

His voice pulled her gaze back to the painting, partly covered in shadow. Another question about another painting, she thought in exasperation. Well, the sooner she answered his questions, the sooner she could be rid of him. She studied the painting briefly before answering, not bothering to look at him.

"I think so. The second Earl brought back several paintings from…"

Pamuk grabbed her about the shoulders and pulled her close to him. Mary gasped as her back hit the wall and he pressed himself against her. His lips descended towards hers quickly and her eyes went wide in shock.

Mary twisted away and evaded his mouth. She pushed back against him forcefully and stumbled away from him.

"Mr. Pamuk!" she hissed.

"Let me come to you tonight, please!" His tone was low and his eyes raked across her body as he followed her. Mary's mouth gaped at his insinuation and she stepped further away.

"No! I can't think what I have said that has led you to believe…"

"Please. I don't know when we'll meet again. So let it be tonight," his voice was pleading, almost like the whine of a petulant child if the words had not been so vile. Mary's stomach churned in disgust.

Mary stepped away from the wall, circling carefully away from him.

"Mr. Pamuk! I will not repeat your words to my father since it would be rude to cast you out into the darkness, but try that once more and I will not be so courteous! Now, I shall rejoin my mother and sisters. I strongly suggest you return to Evelyn and remain with him. Do not speak to me again unless you wish to spend the evening sleeping at the train station!"

Mary held her chin high as she berated the diplomat. Unaffected, his eyes still leered at her. Mary turned away from him quickly and walked back to the light of the drawing room.

Mary saw her mother across the room, standing with Edith and Sybil. She turned towards the refuge of her family, desperate to get away from the door to the sitting room as quickly as possible.

"Lady Mary?"

She nearly shrieked in surprise at the sound of Thomas' voice. She turned toward him, her face still pale from her shock at the events of moments before.

"Sherry, Lady Mary?" Thomas inquired, presenting the tray of drinks to her.

"What? Oh, yes, Barrow. Thank you." Mary took a glass from him and drank half of it rather quickly, hoping the burning in her throat would settle her nerves. Thomas looked at her for a moment before nodding and walking away.

"What was that all about?"

Mary gasped slightly as she turned and Matthew's blue eyes looked upon her.

"Matthew!" she replied reflexively, trying to keep her voice calm. She began to reach for him, but before she could embrace him, she stopped herself and kept her distance. She could not tell Matthew what just happened. It would enrage him and he would cause a scene. Better to simply make it through this night and with any luck, Evelyn and Pamuk would be gone after luncheon the next day. She willed her hands to stop shaking.

"What was what all about?" she answered nervously.

"I saw come out of the sitting room just now. I thought we had closed it off. Was there something there that required your attention?" he asked.

She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by her father.

"Matthew, it's raining terribly outside. There's no need to drown yourself trying to get home in all of this. I'll have Mrs. Hughes prepare your room and Bates can attend to you. I believe there's still some clothes of yours upstairs that should tide you over until tomorrow. Cousin Isobel will stay as well."

"Thank you, Robert, but that's really not necessary."

"Nonsense. I'm not sending you out in that." A crack of thunder sounded virtually on cue as Robert spoke. The wind and rain did sound intense above the din of the party, and Mary and Matthew both noticed the fierce storm for the first time.

"Fine. Thank you," Matthew said. Robert nodded, then went over to speak to the Dowager Countess.

"Excuse me, Cousin Matthew," Mary said tersely and left without allowing Matthew to resume their conversation.

Matthew watched as she crossed the room and seemed to hide herself next to Sybil and Edith. He frowned in confusion. He turned his head and saw Kemal Pamuk coming out of the sitting room. Their eyes met, and Pamuk seemed to smirk and nod to Matthew, before crossing to the other side of the room and rejoining Evelyn. Matthew's eyes followed him, his gaze quickly growing as dark as his mood.

Matthew did not get the chance to speak to Mary for the rest of the evening. She remained surrounded by Cora, Edith and Sybil and the four of them retired at the same time. Matthew followed later when Robert went up. Matthew's mind was replaying the curious events of the evening as Bates helped him dress for bed.

"Did you enjoy the evening, sir?"

"It was fine, Bates. Did you notice anything particularly curious about Lady Mary tonight?"

"Curious in what way, sir? She seemed to be spending a fair amount of time with Mr. Napier. But that was to be expected, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Bates," Matthew replied plainly. "Yes, I suppose it was her duty to host Mr. Napier. There's nothing curious about that."

"The Earl told me that both Her Ladyship and the Dowager Countess are quite pleased that Mr. Napier came to visit, sir. I'm sure the family is eager to see Lady Mary settled, and the ties between the families are rather deep, sir."

"So I've heard, Bates. No, it wasn't anything between Lady Mary and Mr. Napier that I was referring to. Rather it was something between Lady Mary and Mr. Napier's guest, the Turkish diplomat. Lady Mary seemed to spend a fair amount of time with him as well."

"That isn't out of the ordinary, sir," Bates answered, helping Matthew into his robe. "The diplomat is a guest of Mr. Napier. Lady Mary is required to entertain him also as a courtesy to Mr. Napier. It's part of her duty, as I understand it, sir."

Matthew frowned at the reference to Mary's duty, particularly framed as being an obligation owed to Evelyn. He wished Bates good night, and retired to his bedroom.

Try as he might, sleep did not come to Matthew. His curiosity had been piqued ever since he saw Mary emerge from the sitting room. She had appeared nervous and flustered. More importantly, why had she been in the darkened sitting room with Kemal Pamuk? She could have been showing him a painting, Matthew thought idly. After all, the last he had seen them, they were looking up at a painting on the other side of the drawing room. Pamuk seemed rather interested in art, it seemed.

Matthew turned on to his side once again. The storm continued to rage outside and he could hear the crash of thunder and see the flash of lightning around the thick drapes drawn across his bedroom windows.

"This is ridiculous," he grumbled as his eyes opened once more.

There was something about the way that Pamuk looked at Mary that Matthew decided was far from innocent. It was similar to the way Matthew had caught the Duke of Crowborough gazing at her covetously that one summer at Northbrook House. As Matthew feared, Mary was instructed to ride with Napier and Pamuk during the Hunt, and Matthew had to stay with Robert and some of the older gentlemen. He did not know what was worse – the actual conversation that the three of them likely shared as they rode, or what Matthew imagined they had said to her.

Matthew also remembered their behaviour towards Mary at dinner. The Turk seemed to lean towards Mary when he spoke to her, and gaze at her in a way that Matthew found unnerving. Evelyn had been polite and pleasant, as expected. Matthew did not feel particularly threatened by Evelyn's behaviour. There was something behind the diplomat's polished exterior though; something Matthew decided he did not like at all.

His mind drifted back to Mary. God, she looked incredible this evening. Her red dress was flattering to her figure as usual, but the feather in her styled hair and the touch of colour on her cheeks only added to her allure. Their eyes had met briefly at the very beginning of the Hunt before they were separated, and he had smiled seeing the almost childlike glee in her eyes at being able to ride. Matthew smiled at the visions of Mary that entered his mind. He liked to believe that she wore such a beautiful gown to dinner because she knew he would be there, a silent message from her to him.

Lightning flashed through the borders of the drapes. Thunder cracked loudly from outside. Matthew sat up in bed.

'_Well, if I can't sleep, perhaps neither can Mary,'_ Matthew thought. He smiled to himself. Maybe she would be impressed by his initiative. No one would expect anyone to be out of their rooms with the storm raging outside. He eased his way out of bed and put on his slippers and dressing gown. He opened the door to his bedroom and slipped out into the dark hallway.

It was pitch black, but Matthew walked down the hallway with a practised ease. So strange it was that he was so comfortable in this house now. He knew the upstairs corridors so well that he could manoeuvre with his eyes closed.

The loud crash of thunder covered what little sound his careful footsteps made on the carpet. He stepped past the small table that was set against the wall and around the vase that stood next to it. The old house creaked as the storm raged outside, but Matthew could only think of the comfort of Mary's bedroom as he walked silently down the hall.

Matthew crept past the large staircase and towards the other side of the house. He smirked to himself as his eyes began to adjust to the darkness and he could make out shapes and doorways. He had to be careful. It would be an absolute calamity if he somehow mistakenly stole into Edith's bedroom instead of Mary's.

Matthew turned the corner and jumped backward as a flash of light entered his view. Who could be about at this late hour? Was it one of the servants? Had they spotted him? He leaned forward, peering around the wall. His eyes had not imagined the candlelight that was moving slowly down the hall away from him. He frowned as he saw the clear outline of the footman, Thomas, with Kemal Pamuk of all people, beside him!

Matthew's frown became wide-eyed shock as they approached what he knew was the door to Mary's bedroom. Thomas turned and motioned towards the door, a strange look of resignation on his face. Why would the footman be escorting the Turkish ambassador to Mary's room?

Matthew's pulse blazed and his mind flared with dozens of questions all at once. What were the Turk's intentions in going to Mary's bedroom? Was this a late night tryst that had been pre-arranged and which Thomas was helping to facilitate? Was there far more to Mary's interactions with Pamuk than Matthew realized? Why else would the diplomat be so brazen as to leave the Bachelor's Wing and come to Mary's door?

Pamuk whispered something to the footman and Thomas turned and left down another hall. Matthew pulled back out of view as Pamuk glanced all around him. The Turk turned the doorknob and stole into Mary's bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him.

Mary heard footsteps outside her door, then the distinct sound of the door handle turning. She smiled to herself and put her book down. _Matthew!_ He was becoming quite assertive, and she was glad for it. He was just what she needed to forget the horrid events of this evening. It was a waste of her time to think about Evelyn or the dastardly Pamuk. She should be focused on the man in her life who mattered, on Matthew, and his brilliant idea to come to her this evening presented the perfect opportunity.

Mary rose from her bed as the door opened. She froze and her mouth fell open, aghast when she saw her visitor was not at all the man she expected.

"You must be mad!" she hissed at her intruder.

"I am. I am in the grip of madness." Pamuk's gaze was just as lecherous as earlier in the sitting room as he moved towards the bed.

Mary covered herself with one of her blankets. "Leave at once or I'll…"

"Or you'll what?"

"I'll scream."

"No you won't."

Mary frowned at his rudeness. Her reaction only seemed to make him smile as he walked past the bedpost and approached her.

Mary's courage flared with her anger. "How dare you be here! I told you not to speak to me again. Coming uninvited to my bedroom is entirely…"

"What? Don't worry. I've thought of everything. You can still be a virgin for your husband. A phial of blood and he won't be any the wiser."

Mary's eyes widened at the mention of her husband and the suggestion of acts that Pamuk had no business discussing with her. She immediately thought of Matthew, and her heart clenched at what he would think if he knew what was happening at this very moment.

"Do not speak such vile words in my presence! I am promised to another! A man far more worthy than you! Go, now!" Mary pointed to the door indignantly, praying that Pamuk would accept her fierce refusal and leave.

Pamuk stood defiantly before her. He smirked and his eyes devoured her predatorily, avoiding her eyes and raking across her body as if he could see through the blanket covering her.

"Promised to another? And yet I see no engagement ring and Evelyn did not mention any betrothal. In fact, he is rather intent on winning your hand, I believe."

"And despite the kindness he has shown you, you would still act like a savage?"

"He has been a wonderful host indeed. Bringing me here and introducing me to you was worth my trip in and of itself," Pamuk flashed his teeth as he grinned at her.

Mary found herself trapped between Pamuk, the night stand and her bed. The danger of her situation hit her fiercely. Being found with a man in her bedroom was a scandal. If her parents discovered him in her bedroom, all hell would break loose. Mary's mind spun and her pulse pounded in her ears.

"I warn you, Mr. Pamuk! Leave now! One more step and I will scream. Any shame that may come to me from having you found here would be preferable to allowing you to stay!" Mary's eyes narrowed as she marshalled all of the authority she could conjure in her voice.

Matthew stood in front of Mary's bedroom door. His mind was overloaded, trying to process any number of scenarios all at once. Why would Mary betray him? How could she invite this foreigner to her bedroom? Was this why she had so deliberately kept her true relationship with Matthew from her family? Was she simply keeping her options open? Or, was she content to keep Matthew in the background as part of her long term plan, while in the interim she sought out something more…exciting?

Matthew heard their voices through the door but could not make out their conversation. He silently chastised himself. Surely he would not want to remain at the door and hear what other noises may come from within! He needed to do something, now.

Matthew swallowed hard, his heart beating wildly. He steeled himself as he looked down and reached for the doorknob.

"You would make a fine actress," Pamuk sneered. "Do not be afraid my darling. Trust me. It would be better for you if you did not struggle, but in the end it makes no difference to me. I have no interest in you beyond this night. So, let us have this night together. I assure you, I shall give you a memory you shall not soon forget."

Pamuk raised his hand towards her. There was no escape. _Oh God_.

"Relax, Mary. You aren't my first."

Thunder cracked outside.

Mary had no choice. She drew in a sharp breath. _Please hear me_.

"MAT…"

A loud and piercing crash sounded from the hallway and Mary and Pamuk both jumped and looked towards her door.

"What in the blazes?! Carson!" Robert's voice rang out from down the hall.

A cacophony of doors opening and hurried footsteps rang out from downstairs.

"Papa!" Mary hissed in realization.

Seizing her opportunity as Pamuk was looking towards her door, Mary shoved him hard in the same direction.

"Leave at once! They'll find you here and I will not be responsible for what becomes of you when I tell them what you have dared try this night."

Opening his mouth to protest, Pamuk frowned, unable to formulate an alternative. He huffed bitterly as he quickly escaped from her room and retreated down the now lit hallway back to his bedroom before the servants could come upstairs.

Mary put on her dressing gown. She waited several moments at her door, taking deep breaths to calm herself. She came out into the hallway. Looking left and right, she realized that the large vase that sat between her room and Edith's room was broken across the floor, pieces scattered everywhere. As Mary looked down at the mess, Edith came out of her room in her dressing gown.

"What…however did this happen?" Edith mumbled.

"I- I don't know," Mary replied, dumbstruck.

Robert and Cora came down the hall to survey the scene, joined shortly by Sybil, Carson and Bates.

"What happened? What was that dreadful noise?" Cora asked. "Oh, goodness! Your mother's vase, Robert!"

"Carson? What's the meaning of this?"

"I am at a loss to explain, my Lord. The vase seems to have fallen over, but I have no idea how that occurred," Carson replied in what qualified as a shocked tone for him.

"May have been the thunder."

Everyone turned to look at Matthew, his gaze was fixed firmly on Mary before he looked down at the broken pieces on the floor.

"I heard the crash all the way in my room across the house. The storm has been rather loud. With old houses like these, you never know what shocks may occur during the night."

Matthew's voice was eerily calm, his expression fierce. Mary's eyes widened in alarm when he glared at her again as everyone else stared at the broken vase.

"Well, I don't know," sighed Robert. "Carson, have this mess cleaned up, and send a footman around to make sure nothing else has been damaged. Girls, be careful where you step. Everyone go back to sleep. Let's hope that's the last of any shocks we'll have tonight."

"Perhaps someone should look in on our guests, Mr. Napier and Mr. Pamuk," Matthew suggested. "We wouldn't want them to be roused out of their beds at this hour. We can't have the Embassy thinking us poor hosts after all."

"Yes. Yes, that's a good idea, Matthew," Cora agreed. "Carson."

"I'll have Thomas look in on both of them, Your Ladyship."

"Fine. Now, off to bed all of you."

As everyone turned to go back to their rooms, Mary caught Matthew's gaze. He was seething. He turned abruptly away and went back to the Bachelor's Wing. Unable to call out to him, all she could do was go back to her room. She locked her door and rattled the knob several times to ensure it held. She quickly put out her bedside light, unable to look at her room without recalling the events of the evening. As thunder boomed outside once again, Mary buried herself under the blankets and fell into a fitful sleep.

**Downton Abbey, England, February 1913**

"Thank you, Carson," Isobel nodded as he took her coat, draping it over his arm with Matthew's.

"Her Ladyship is awaiting you in the parlour," Carson stated, motioning with his arm for them to go through with him.

"Ah, there you are," Mary smiled as she came into the Great Hall. "Cousin Isobel, Cousin Matthew, I trust the drive over wasn't too difficult."

"Cousin Mary," Isobel smiled back. "There's still a bit of a cold snap in the air, but I expect it will pass shortly. I expect the men prefer it a touch warmer for the Hunt."

"Papa certainly does," Mary agreed. "I don't mind riding in the cold actually, but I can't say the same for Diamond."

"Carson," Mary turned to the butler. "Please show Cousin Isobel through to the parlour. I told Papa that I would help Cousin Matthew find some old maps of the grounds that we keep in the library."

"As you wish, my Lady," Carson nodded and escorted Isobel to the parlour.

Mary turned swiftly and walked through to the library, a confused Matthew trailing behind her. By the time he reached the door, she had already disappeared into the small library. He followed after her.

"Mary? What maps are you talking about? I didn't ask your father for…"

Mary closed the door behind him and pushed him against it in one smooth motion. Her hands went to the lapels of his suit jacket and she pulled him towards her, capturing his mouth hungrily.

Matthew groaned into her kiss, his eyes widening as her tongue pushed past his lips. His arms wrapped around her and she moaned into his mouth as he spun them around and pushed her back against the wall, covering her with his own body.

Matthew pulled away from her lips and kissed her cheek and her neck. Her gloved fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. He finally paused and pressed his forehead against hers, both of them gasping in the same breath.

"I was saying," Matthew whispered. "I don't know what maps you're talking about, but I would be very pleased to keep looking for them."

Mary laughed and kissed his cheek, moving to his neck and the soft skin above his collar.

"Thank you so much for the flowers," she breathed between kisses. "I adore them. It's the sweetest thing anyone has ever gotten me. However did you manage it?"

"How do you know they were from me? You do have many admirers don't you?" Matthew teased.

"I was hoping they were from you," Mary said with a kiss to his cheek. "And when I saw the ribbons, and read the card, I was sure. Thank you, darling."

Matthew chuckled in satisfaction. "It did not come easily, for certain. I had to trust in Molesley of all people. His father has been growing your roses since November, although no one knew the true purpose of any of it, or that it was under my direction."

"Hmm," Mary smiled against his cheek. "Mr. Molesley's roses were an inspired choice. It would have raised all manner of suspicion to get flowers from Granny. Well done, Matthew. Aren't schemes so fun when they come off so brilliantly?"

"I suppose there's something to be said for the thrill of secrecy," Matthew replied, kissing her chastely several times on the lips. "But I would much rather be able to show my love for you in public rather than rely on anonymous messages and stolen moments."

"Of course," Mary said, kissing him back. "But one does need some excitement from time to time."

They composed themselves and went back to the parlour to rejoin their family, each of them confirming to the Earl of Grantham that they had indeed found the maps Matthew was looking for.

**Downton Abbey, England, March 1913**

Matthew looked out the large window of the library. The sky was grey, the grounds still wet from the rain of the previous evening. When he had first arrived at Downton Abbey in the fall, he was overcome with a ridiculous sense of joy. Knowing he could now come and go from Mary's home as he pleased and see her every day was a miracle, and Downton Abbey appeared magical to him, as if it were taken from a picturesque postcard or fairytale. The place looked altogether more dreary now.

He turned as he heard the door open.

"Oh, my apologies, Matthew. I was looking for Lady Grantham."

"I believe she's walking outside," Matthew volunteered. "Will we be seeing you and Mr. Pamuk at luncheon?"

"I'm afraid not. I'm actually about to say goodbye. They're bringing the car around to take us to the station," Evelyn replied.

"Oh, I wasn't aware you were leaving so soon," Matthew frowned. "Well, have you said goodbye to Lady Mary?"

"I have."

"Well then," Matthew said, not sure what else to discuss with Evelyn. "I suppose we'll be seeing more of you here in the future. Perhaps for the Garden Party in the summer?"

Evelyn smiled at him somewhat wistfully. "Nothing would give me more pleasure, but I'm afraid I'm rather busy at the moment, and expect to be for several months yet. Actually, Matthew, now that I'm about to leave, let me take this opportunity to make myself clear so that we understand each other."

"Yes?" Matthew answered, somewhat confused. What was there to understand?

"The truth is I'm not a vain man, Matthew, despite what you may think of me. I do not consider myself a very interesting person, but I feel it's important that my future wife think me so. A woman who finds me boring could never love me, and I believe marriage should be based on love, believe it or not." Evelyn laughed almost to himself. "At least, at the start anyway."

Matthew nodded. Was Evelyn saying what Matthew thought he was saying?

"My father and Lord Grantham are friends, Matthew. Our families will always be friendly, and I'm sure we'll see each other during the Season when time permits. But, other than being family friends, I see now that's as far as the ties will go, between all of us."

Matthew blinked as he processed Evelyn's meaning.

"Allow me to give you a word of advice, Matthew," Evelyn continued. "Whatever world you think you come from, or whatever fear you have over whether you belong in ours or not, I can assure you there are not very many Lady Mary Crawleys in either world. I don't presume to know what your intentions are. I expect that some arrangement has been suggested to you though, as you are the heir to Lord Grantham and Lady Mary is his eldest daughter. I won't ask you what your feelings are on the subject. Let me just say though that if you are contemplating anything to that effect, you should not hesitate too long where action is required. That would be terribly…boring of you."

Matthew's mouth fell open in stunned silence.

"Goodbye, Matthew. It was good to meet you. I'll give your regards to my father." Evelyn smiled, turned and left.

Matthew thought for several moments before walking out into the Great Hall. If Evelyn had said goodbye to Mary already, then perhaps she was in the Morning Room and he could catch her for breakfast. There was much that they needed to discuss, and he would need to find a private moment for them somehow. As he moved in that direction, Kemal Pamuk was escorted towards the front entrance by Thomas.

"Mr. Pamuk," Matthew nodded. "I understand that you're leaving. I hope you found your time here to be pleasant."

"It was, thank you," Pamuk replied. "English hospitality is unique and very welcome, indeed."

Matthew looked at him intently. Pamuk's face revealed nothing.

"Unfortunately it seems you also experienced some English weather as well," Matthew said with a false smile. "I trust your sleep last night was not interrupted by the rain and thunder?"

Pamuk's eyes seemed to narrow slightly as he absorbed Matthew's words.

"Not at all. I slept rather soundly in fact. The exhilaration of the Hunt must have worn me out."

"Must have," Matthew answered. "Well, all the best with the negotiations then. Good day."

"Thank you. Good day. Oh, and give my regards to Lady Mary, please. I'm afraid I haven't seen her since last night," Pamuk finished with a smirk.

"Certainly! I'll tell her that you said goodbye," Matthew replied immediately. He locked his eyes on Pamuk. "It's a shame that your time with all of us was so short and cut off. I would hate to think anyone would be left wanting from their time with you."

A sneer seemed to flash across Pamuk's face. Matthew returned a smirk of his own to the Turk. Pamuk paused before his eyes darkened and a wicked grin returned to his face.

"Do not trouble yourself, Mr. Crawley," he said with a hint of condescension before lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. "I _never_ leave anyone unsatisfied. For example, I spent a great deal of time with Lady Mary during the Hunt, and at dinner, and after we all went through. She was kind enough to give me a private tour of the sitting room in fact, which was absolutely delightful. She certainly enjoyed our time together last evening as much as I did. We simply could not tire of one another. And of course she would enjoy herself with me. We are of a similar class after all, the two of us. I assure you, a mere moment with me, even an interrupted one, can be far more memorable than a lifetime with another man."

Matthew pursed his lips and returned the Turk's arrogant stare. Thomas cleared his throat and Pamuk smiled and nodded to Matthew. He turned and walked briskly out the door to the waiting motor.

Matthew clenched his fists, barely controlling his rage. He did not bother waiting to see the car take Evelyn and Pamuk away from Downton Abbey.

He turned back to the Great Hall and stopped. Mary stood at the landing near the bottom of the stairs. They locked eyes for a moment. Her face was pale and her eyes wide in shock. Matthew's anger flared and he turned away without a word to her.

"Matthew, there you are!"

Matthew stopped as the Earl of Grantham approached him before he could leave the Great Hall. He slowly turned around, unclenching his fists with great effort.

"Cousin Robert," Matthew greeted him evenly.

"The weather has lifted, and our guests have departed. I was going to take Isis for a walk. Would you like to join me? We can spend some time before luncheon."

"Thank you, Cousin Robert, that is very kind. I'm afraid that I should be getting back home. There's some matters I need to attend to today."

"Oh, very well. Can we count on seeing you and Isobel at dinner this evening?"

"I'll pass along word to Mother. As for me, I have a rather busy day at work tomorrow so I expect I'll spend the evening at Crawley House. Good day, Cousin Robert."

Mary watched as Matthew nodded to her Papa and left, walking determinedly out the door, down the driveway and out of sight.


	8. Chapter 8

**Previously:**

**Downton Abbey, England, March 1913**

"The weather has lifted, and our guests have departed. I was going to take Isis for a walk. Would you like to join me? We can spend some time before luncheon."

"Thank you, Cousin Robert, that is very kind. I'm afraid that I should be getting back home. There's some matters I need to attend to today."

"Oh, very well. Can we count on seeing you and Isobel at dinner this evening?"

"I'll pass along word to Mother. As for me, I have a rather busy day at work tomorrow so I expect I'll spend the evening at Crawley House. Good day, Cousin Robert."

Mary watched as Matthew nodded to her Papa and left, walking determinedly out the door, down the driveway and out of sight.

**Chapter 8:**

**Hyde Park, London, England, August 1911**

"Please, Mary," Matthew groaned against her ear. "Please."

Mary smiled, shivering as she felt his breath against her cheek and his hand ghost across her thigh.

"I'd rather not," she answered, turning so their lips were almost touching and their eyes locked on each other. "You may not find what I have to say particularly pleasing."

"Darling," Matthew said softly. "I find everything about you particularly pleasing. Won't you enlighten me? I always enjoy hearing what's on your mind. You know that."

Mary sighed and pulled back slightly. "Ladies are not supposed to speak out of turn, Matthew."

"Well then you are fortunate indeed. It is your turn, for I have ceded the podium to you and wait with great interest for you to begin your rebuttal."

Mary looked away from him and out across the park. The secluded bench gave them a lovely view of the vast green, with the Weeping Beech in the distance. They were left remarkably alone in this small corner, as if they were invisible and merely observing the goings on of the world around them.

Mary carefully gave her argument against what they had just heard at Speakers' Corner. As she dissected the socialist commentary of the speaker, Matthew smiled. She became more confident and animated as she spoke, and she raised her eyebrow to him when she finished, daring him to find a flaw in her dissertation.

"I am convinced," Matthew said pleasantly. "The speaker was lucky you did not feel the need to interject."

"Or heckle," Mary said with a laugh.

"Come, Lady Mary," Matthew said, rising and reaching for her hand. "We need to get walking if I'm to bring you back home in time for the dinner gong."

Mary rose from the bench and kissed him quickly. They walked through Hyde Park and back down the long street towards Grantham House. Matthew savoured the sun all around them. Mary looked at the ground. They came to their usual parting spot in Green Park and Matthew pulled her close to him, kissing her soundly. Mary gripped the lapels of his jacket, seizing his lips rather fiercely with her own.

Matthew grinned at her when they pulled apart. He loved it when she was eager.

"When can you get away tomorrow? I know a small theatre company that is putting on a production of _Much Ado About Nothing_ and I thought we could see it. There should be a decent crowd so we won't be noticed."

Mary looked down. "That does sound lovely, Matthew," she said quietly. "Unfortunately, I won't be able to see you tomorrow."

"Oh. Well, that's all right. What about the day after?"

Mary shook her head, swallowing as she grew more nervous. "No, I can't. You see, we're leaving the City tomorrow morning. We're going back to Downton."

"Tomorrow?" Matthew's eyes widened. "Your family is closing Grantham House?"

"Yes," Mary said, averting her eyes. "My Season is done, and Papa wants to go home."

"I see," Matthew said quietly, looking away. "Your parents will undoubtedly have decisions to make on the suitors you've met this Summer."

"Yes." Mary could say nothing more.

"Well, this is goodbye, then," he said.

"Matthew…" she looked up at him.

"No," he whispered, meeting her eyes. "It's all right, Mary. We knew we didn't have much time. This entire Summer was stolen, wasn't it? But, we made the most of it, didn't we?"

"Yes, we did," Mary answered, bitter tears coming to her eyes.

Matthew smiled wanly, running his hand along her cheek. "It will be all right," he said gamely. "They'll match you up with a perfect nobleman and your future will be secure. You'll have the life that you deserve, Mary. I'm glad for it, truly. God knows I wish the best for you."

Mary blinked, her tears falling. "And you'll do well, Matthew. You'll go back to Manchester and find a wonderful girl; someone who can…properly run a house, and…entertain your clients and support you…someone who will make you happy."

"No," Matthew shook his head. "I may find someone, eventually. She won't…she won't be you though, so she won't make me happy, not truly happy anyway. I'm afraid no one else could do that."

"Please don't say that," Mary pleaded.

"It's true, my darling," Matthew smiled sadly. "I don't wish for your pity, or your guilt. But I'll never be this happy with anyone else, not as long as I know you walk the Earth. I love you, Mary. I know this sounds juvenile, but I always will, and I can't imagine loving anyone else the same way."

"Matthew, you deserve so much more than I can give you. You need to forget me. You need to…"

"Shh," Matthew implored, taking her face in his hands. "We're a dream, Mary, you and I. A fantastic, absurd, impossible, wonderful dream. I thought our dream was over in the Spring. But we had this Summer together. And even though our dream is ending now, that doesn't mean it wasn't right to dream in the first place. I could never forget you. I never would want to forget you."

Mary kissed him again, crying as she berated herself for being unable to express in words what he deserved to hear.

Matthew handed her his handkerchief and she wiped her eyes.

"Matthew, you must know that I…I will always…" she stammered, her mind failing her. Propriety, wit, even charm could not help her now.

"Goodbye, Mary," Matthew said quietly. "Let's be brave. You need to go now. They're expecting you."

Mary stared at him, then turned and walked back toward Grantham House. Matthew followed behind her. She knew he always saw her home safely, and even though they could not look at each other or talk to each other every time she walked the remaining steps to Grantham House, she was glad for his presence and the safety he provided. She now desperately stopped herself from looking back as she climbed the steps to the front door. Her face was covered in its familiar expressionless mask by the time Carson opened the door to let her in.

Matthew did not break stride as he walked past, seeing her enter the home and the door close behind her. He stared at the ground with unfocused eyes all the way back to his hotel.

**Office of the Law Firm of Harvell, Carter & Lewis, Ripon, England, April 1913**

"Mr. Lewis is here, Mr. Crawley."

"Thank you, Michelle," Matthew said, rising from his desk and greeting his friend.

"Alex. We weren't expecting you. You must have taken the first morning train. What brings you here?"

Alex shook Matthew's hand and sat down in a chair as Matthew went back to his desk.

"Matthew, you do realize that it's rather strange to question why your employer would attend at his own office?"

Matthew shook his head. "Of course you're welcome here always. I was just wondering what required you to come here from London so early. I'm not aware of any pressing cases that require your attention at this office."

"Actually, there is a particular matter that I need to deal with here."

"Truly? Is it urgent?"

"That depends."

"Depends on?"

"On why exactly you have been sequestering yourself here for the past month." Alex looked at Matthew inquisitively.

Matthew's face fell. "I don't know what you…"

"Before you provide an excuse," Alex raised his hand. "I am told that since March you have been at the office before anyone else arrives and have worked late every day, including weekends. While that type of dedication is certainly appreciated, I am also aware that there is nothing substantially pressing in your case load that requires you to spend such a large amount of your time here. I asked Carter about the state of your files and he tells me that you've managed to get rather far ahead in a number of matters. So, it appears that you are working tirelessly on cases that do not in fact require your immediate attention. My question is why?"

Matthew looked away. "I expected that you would welcome my initiative."

"I am certainly pleased with the extra income that your increased billings will bring me, yes," Alex smiled. "But I cannot help but wonder if the reason you are in the office so much is because you are trying to avoid going home, or rather, going to your other home."

Matthew's eyes widened. He looked away again.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with the visit of the Honourable Evelyn Napier, heir to Viscount Branksome, during the Hunt last month, would it?"

"Not exactly," Matthew mumbled. "Nothing to do with Napier anyway."

"Ah, so Lady Mary has thrown him over, has she?"

"Well they were never actually together, so I suppose he got the hint that she wasn't interested."

"You spent a great deal of time being jealous of a man who had no chance then, apparently."

Matthew looked up at Alex and frowned. He fell silent.

"Michelle," Alex called. The receptionist arrived quickly.

"Tea, please. My usual blend. Thank you."

"Certainly, Mr. Lewis," she left to arrange it.

Matthew looked at Alex in confusion.

"You know that I like to take tea when contemplating interesting problems. And since neither one of us is leaving this office until you tell me exactly what is bothering you, I think some refreshment is called for."

Alex steepled his fingers in front of him and looked at Matthew with a calm expression.

Matthew rolled his eyes. Alex always steepled his fingers when he was about to make a rather convincing argument in Court, or when he was listening to a client drone on about their problems.

"We may as well wait for your tea to arrive," Matthew grumbled.

**Downton Abbey, England, March 1913**

"Cousin Isobel," Mary said, coming over to greet her as she came into the Great Hall.

"Ah, Mary, lovely to see you, dear," Isobel smiled. "I trust I am not holding everyone up?"

"No, of course not," Mary said distractedly. "Mama will be coming down shortly and we'll have drinks in the parlour."

Mary watched as Carson walked away with Isobel's coat.

Isobel watched as Mary stared past her and at the door.

"Oh, I'm afraid it's only me, tonight," Isobel said cheerfully.

"Cousin Matthew did not come with you?" Mary asked cautiously. "We haven't seen him for some time now."

"Yes, it's been almost two weeks, I think," Isobel frowned. "I've barely seen him myself, actually. He leaves early in the morning before I wake and he comes home rather late in the evening, sometimes after I've already retired. I asked him why he was spending so much time at the office and he said that a great matter was keeping him busy. I think I've had dinner with him twice in the last two weeks."

"I see," Mary nodded, processing this new information.

"If he had anything important to discuss with your father, then I'm sure he would come to the house. He's not one to visit without first having a reason, you know," Isobel continued.

"No, certainly not," Mary agreed in a monotone voice.

"Besides," Isobel lowered her voice. "It's probably best. I wouldn't want him to antagonize you. Things have improved since our arrival last year, and I'd rather everything be civil between you and Matthew, Mary. Coming up here so often would probably be pushing our luck a bit!" Isobel smiled and laughed.

Mary gave her a false smile in return.

"Cousin Isobel."

"Cousin Cora, lovely to see you."

Cora came down the stairs with Edith and Sybil. They all greeted Isobel and went through to the parlour. Mary trailed behind. She turned and looked back to the door, the blackness of night visible through the windows. She sighed as she took one last glance, seeking a sign of someone who was not there.

**The Crystal Palace Park, London, England, March 1911**

"I'm sorry, Lady Mary, I must be boring you."

"Please, Matthew, I told you to call me Mary," she smiled. "And I'm not bored at all. I think it's sweet that your parents met while working at the same hospital. It's a rather efficient form of matchmaking." She laughed.

Matthew smiled at her then looked away. He found himself growing more comfortable with her the more time they spent together. At first he thought she was humouring him by inviting him to walk out with her during their lunch break. However, now that they'd walked out each day for a week now, he could not help but think they were almost becoming friends.

"What about your parents?" he asked. "There must be some grand romantic tale of their betrothal?"

Mary smirked. "Yes, very romantic," she said. "Papa went to America looking for a wife with a large dowry. He found Mama and had her sign a marriage contract before they were engaged. When my Grandfather died, they became Earl and Countess of Grantham and here we are."

Matthew blinked in surprise.

"That does sound romantic…" he choked out.

Mary laughed. "It's all right, Matthew. My parents' type of marriage was very common among Society decades ago. It still is, actually."

"Really? I meant…I'm sorry, I don't have much experience with the ways of Society, I'm afraid. Are you expected to have a similar marriage arrangement?"

Mary looked at him, studying his face for some sign of jest or mockery. She found none. Matthew Crawley was intriguing her by the day. He seemed genuinely interested in her life, which was rare for any man she knew, of any class.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I? That's how things are done among my class of people," Mary said proudly. "My debut Season is this Summer. It's very exciting actually, spending the Summer in London, meeting the Royal Family, and receiving invitations from suitors. I've been planning for it for a while now. It will be good to have it finally arrive."

"Yes," Matthew agreed, feeling a strange apprehension at the thought of Mary being paraded around and brokered into an arranged marriage.

"I can see how you would be eager for your Season to arrive."

**Downton Abbey, England, April 1913**

Mary looked out the window. The grass was green and the cloudless sky was blue. A lovely day. A perfect day for a walk. If only she had someone to walk out with.

Three weeks had now passed since the Hunt and Matthew had not been up to the house once. Mary had surreptitiously asked Carson, Anna and Bates if Cousin Matthew had been by to see Papa, and they all replied that he had not. She waited in the small library, in _their_ small library, on most days at the usual appointed hour for their secret meetings, and he had not shown. There had been no word, no messages, no notes, no letters from him, no appearances at dinner or even luncheon on the weekends. He even attended a separate Church service, Isobel saying that he was so busy at work that he had been going to service in Ripon instead.

"Milady," Anna said as she handed the tea cup to Mary.

"Thank you, Anna," Mary said blankly as she took the tea. She tried to listen to her Granny and Mama discuss something but she could not focus on the conversation.

She hated remembering the last moments she had seen Matthew. His eyes were cold, his face clouded in anger, glaring at her. She had not heard his conversation with Kemal Pamuk in the Great Hall, but she could see that the talk had not been pleasant, nor harmless. Matthew's posture was rigid, his fists clenched in rage. Did that blasted Turkish diplomat have the gall to tell Matthew he had been in Mary's bedroom? Impossible. Pamuk would not have known about her relationship with Matthew and surely would not have wanted to share any details about his failed attempt to violate her.

Mary shivered, partly from the memory of Pamuk in her room, but mostly from not knowing why Matthew had broken off all contact.

"Granny, how are your flowers?" Edith asked.

"Surprisingly resilient," Violet replied. "The winter was not as harsh as expected so I feel as if they're already weeks ahead of where they would normally be."

"It has been a strange winter," Sybil replied. "Unseasonably warm."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Edith said. "The less we hear Papa complain about another pipe bursting or the pond freezing over or a horse catching frostbite, the better."

"Edith!" Cora frowned.

"I'm sorry, Mama, but it's true," Edith shrugged her shoulders.

"Was there any other damage from that terrible storm we had weeks ago?" Violet asked.

"Nothing significant," Cora answered. "Except for your vase of course. I am very sorry about that."

"Oh don't be, don't be! It was a wedding present from a frightful aunt. I have hated it for half a century! The damn thing was almost as tall as I am," Violet said firmly, then smiled to herself.

Sybil laughed. "Well then you have the thunderstorm to thank for your loss, Granny."

"Indeed," Violet chuckled. "It is curious though. That vase has survived being dropped down the stairs, tipped over and all manner of shakes, bumps, jostles and clumsy servants. Strange that a loud crash of thunder should be its undoing."

Mary shook herself as comprehension began to stir inside of her. She looked at her Granny with sudden interest.

"Up until that night, I thought the ugly thing near indestructible," Violet laughed. "A man would need to lift it up and throw it down to smash it to that many pieces. Who knew that all it would take was some inclement weather?"

Mary frowned as she took another sip of her tea. She was not sure what was stronger – her incredulity over the scenario developing in her mind, or her fear that she may be right.

**Home of Isobel Crawley, Manchester, England, May 1911**

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Crawley."

"Alex! How wonderful! Do come in!"

Alex nodded and entered the home, following Isobel through to the sitting room.

"I'll go and fetch Matthew for you. He's just in the study. Shall I send tea through as well?"

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Crawley. Tea would be perfect, if it isn't too much trouble."

"Of course not, Alex! I'll speak to you before you leave."

Matthew came through shortly afterward. He shook hands with his friend. Tea and scones were soon brought for them.

"How was the rest of your stay in London, Matthew? I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to visit. I was quite busy at the gala. I barely had time to speak to Sir Campbell even."

"Of course. My month in London was quite enjoyable, actually, on the whole," Matthew answered. "You should see these students, Alex. Each year's form seems even more talented than the one before."

"The work they're doing there is rather impressive," Alex agreed.

"And I know they appreciate your support."

"It's nothing," Alex shook his head. "Now, while I did not get much time with you at The Crystal Palace, I did notice that you spent a rather long time on the terrace during the dancing."

"Did you?" Matthew answered nervously.

"What's her name, Matthew?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Alex," Matthew said, sipping his tea.

"Matthew…"

Matthew rolled his eyes. He looked around to make sure they were alone.

"All right, her name is Lady Mary Crawley," he said quietly. "No relation," he added as Alex opened his mouth to ask.

"A Lady? My, Matthew, how ambitious of you."

"Ambitious, or foolish," Matthew said resignedly. "Anyway, we spent a great deal of time together, but her Season is coming this summer so I expect I'll never see her again, except on the Society pages perhaps."

"That sounds rather tragic," Alex smiled, sipping his tea. "Be that as it may, how was the month you were able to spend with her?"

"Like something out of a dream," Matthew answered, looking past Alex and out the window.

**Downton Abbey, England, April 1913**

"Where is everyone?" Edith called as she came into the Morning Room and sat down.

"Papa had business in London. He left on the early train. Mama's upstairs. Sybil finished her breakfast and went out for a walk, I think," Mary replied listlessly, stirring her tea yet again.

"And what are your plans today?"

"Nothing in particular," Mary answered curtly, taking another sip of tea.

"It was nice to see Cousin Isobel last night," Edith said, nodding to Carson as he placed a plate of eggs and toast before her.

"It was."

"Strange that Cousin Matthew was not with her yet again. It's been over a month now that he hasn't come to dinner, I believe."

'37 days to be exact' Mary thought sadly.

She looked at Edith. "Why so concerned? Afraid you won't be able to plan your long delayed Church visit?"

"Hardly," Edith said dismissively. "I'm just wondering where he disappeared to. In any event, I don't think we'll be planning anything anytime soon."

"Why not? I thought you had such high hopes."

"It was an idea, that's all," Edith said. "Truth be told, I don't think we're particularly well matched, Cousin Matthew and I."

"Pardon?" Mary asked, now very interested in her sister's train of thought.

"Don't misunderstand me. I find Cousin Matthew's company to be very pleasant. I'm quite glad he's here and I'm not nearly as horrified that he will inherit the Estate as you are."

Mary nodded.

"But he hasn't expressed any interest in me, and if I'm honest, I can't say I'm particularly interested in him, at least not in the way that a woman should be towards a suitor anyway."

"How do you know that Cousin Matthew isn't interested in you? Perhaps he's waiting for the right moment to show his feelings," Mary baited her. She needed to understand what Edith was talking about.

"I doubt Cousin Matthew is shy about showing his feelings," Edith laughed. "If he had intentions towards me, he would be clear about them. Why would he hold back? He's not one for games, you know. He likes to be direct and honest, that much is obvious from knowing him for these past few months. I don't take it as an insult. As I say, I think we're better suited as cousins than anything more."

"So you've given up on your ambition to one day be Countess of Grantham then," Mary stated.

"That may have been your dream, not mine," Edith shot back. "I have no doubt that Cousin Matthew will find a suitable wife. He's quite charming, whether you realize it or not. It will be interesting to see who he brings here as his bride one day."

Edith ate her breakfast as Mary contemplated her words. Of course she knew Matthew hated games. He wore his emotions on his sleeve and she loved that about him. Mary frowned as she thought about Edith's last comment.

Matthew with another woman.

Matthew taking a wife.

Matthew living at Downton Abbey with a lovely bride who wouldn't fight with him over petty subjects, or make snide remarks about him in front of others, or deny him her affection just to tease him. Matthew loving a woman who put him first before such ludicrous ideas like concocting the perfect scheme or doing her duty to a complete stranger.

"Excuse me," Mary said quickly, placing her napkin on the table and rising. She left the Morning Room, crossed the Great Hall and went upstairs quickly, practically running as she reached her bedroom. She pulled the cord firmly and sat down at her vanity, surveying her jewellery with a mix of urgency and determination.

"Yes, Milady?" Anna called as she came into the room.

"I need to change immediately. Please have my blue jacket and skirt pressed. I'll need a white blouse and the matching hat and gloves as well, and these earrings."

"Right away, Milady. I wasn't aware you were travelling anywhere today."

"It was a sudden decision, Anna. I realized this morning that I have urgent business to attend to that cannot wait another day." Mary rose from the vanity and went to the mirror. She fidgeted as Anna came up behind her and dutifully began undoing the buttons on her morning dress.

"Very well, Milady. Where will you be off to?"

Mary stared at her reflection and raised her chin, her own eyes looking back at her fiercely.

"To Ripon, Anna. As quickly as possible."

**Office of the Law Firm of Harvell, Carter & Lewis, Ripon, England, April 1913**

"And you haven't spoken to her since?" Alex asked.

"No. I'm well aware of how it feels to say goodbye to Mary. There's no need to repeat that again when it's clear what's happened, and where I stand."

"And where do you stand, Matthew?"

"On shifting sands, it seems."

The office was quiet as Matthew looked down at his desk. He became agitated recounting all of the events of the Hunt and the fateful evening that followed. For a moment he felt he was back standing in the dark hallway in front of Mary's bedroom, his palms clammy as the secret lovers did God knows what behind the closed door. The next, he was watching Pamuk's sneering face as the bastard gloated over how well he and Mary got along, how they were from the same class, and how much Mary had enjoyed his company the previous evening. The insinuation was so horrible Matthew could barely repeat it to Alex. Matthew shook his head, trying to calm himself.

"Well, that's splendid, then," Alex said finally.

"What?" Matthew looked up in confusion.

"It has to be a relief to have some finality to everything," Alex stated. "It's over. You don't need to pretend that you aren't committed to Lady Mary because you no longer are. That must be a relief."

"I wouldn't exactly call it a…"

"Without you as an option, Lady Grantham and the Dowager Countess can find a suitable match for Lady Mary and Lord Grantham can focus on grooming you to succeed him. Perhaps they'll push Lady Edith on you. That wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

"I'm not sure I could ever be interested in…"

"But you'll need to find someone, Matthew!" Alex raised his hands. "You're going to be the Earl of Grantham and you'll need a wife to give you sons to carry on the Crawley line. If that woman isn't going to be Lady Mary, then you need to dedicate yourself to finding a suitable replacement."

"I don't want to replace Mary, but I have no choice! She's already…"

"Maybe Lady Edith wouldn't be the best option," Alex mused. "Why settle for a Crawley girl? It isn't as if you weren't popular during the Winter Season. A proper Summer in London may bring you any number of potential candidates."

"I'm not looking for another…"

"In any event, that's a matter for another day. For now, what's important is that you've come to your senses and called time on this ridiculous charade. I'm very proud of you, Matthew. You've blended into Society far more easily than I thought you would. Everyone knows that the aristocracy don't marry for love, and you've now ensured that you will not either. You're truly one of them now."

"Blast it, Alex! What are you talking about? Of course I want to marry for love!" Matthew snarled.

"But I don't understand, Matthew," Alex looked at him perplexed. "You just told me it's over between you and Lady Mary. But if you want to marry for love, and you aren't going to marry her, then how important was love in your decision? I suppose I haven't considered that you didn't really love her…"

"How dare you!" Matthew raged. "You know very well that I loved her. I still love her!"

"I'm sorry?" Alex asked. "If you love her, then why have you avoided her for the past month? Did I miss something in your explanation? Did she tell you she'd gone off you?"

"No! But that bastard Pamuk! He said…"

"Forgive me, Matthew, I must have misheard," Alex interrupted again. "If you haven't spoken to Lady Mary since the Hunt, and you didn't actually witness anything occurring in her bedroom, and she hasn't broken things off with you, and you say that you still love her, then why are you trusting in the word of a scoundrel rather than in your own faith in the woman you love?"

Matthew opened his mouth to reply when the receptionist appeared at his door.

"I'm sorry for the interruption, Mr. Lewis. Mr. Crawley, sir, there's someone here to see you."

"I don't have any meetings scheduled for today. Who is it, Michelle?"

"Lady Mary Crawley, sir."

Matthew looked at Alex, then back at the receptionist.

"Send her in by all means, Michelle," Alex said smoothly. "In fact, please show her to the boardroom and bring tea. Matthew will join her there in several moments."

"Yes, Mr. Lewis, sir."

"I don't want to see her, Alex," Matthew hissed.

"You need to see her. She came all the way here, Matthew. It would be rude to not meet with her after she's gone to the trouble."

Matthew stared back at his friend's enigmatic smile and shook his head ruefully. Alex's words still hung in his mind.

"Fine."

Matthew rose from his desk and walked down the hall to the boardroom.

"Mary," he said as he came in. He did not sit down.

"Matthew," she replied quietly. "Thank you for seeing me. I am sorry that I came unannounced."

"Well, this is a surprise, but it's fine. Were you in the area for some other reason?"

"No. I…well, I told my parents that I had shopping to do. But the truth is that I wanted to see you. You haven't been by the house for several weeks now."

"Yes, well I am rather busy, you see."

"Won't you sit and have tea?"

Matthew hesitated, staring at the tea and scones placed on the table, trying to avoid looking directly at her.

"Yes, of course."

Matthew took a seat and sipped his tea carefully. Mary cautiously watched him from her seat. She cradled her tea cup in her hands as if the words she were searching for were somewhere inside it.

"How have you been?" Mary asked finally.

"Fine."

"You've been missed," Mary continued slowly. "Cousin Isobel says you've been very busy here, and so you haven't had time to come to the house."

"Yes," he said shortly. "Work has been busy, as I said."

"Will you be joining us for dinner tonight? You know that Papa hates it whenever he goes more than two days without seeing you, and Mama has a new floral arrangement that she would like to show off to your mother, I'm sure."

Matthew shook his head, still not looking at her. "I don't know. I hadn't thought about it. I expect I'll be working late again this evening."

"Oh. Well I thought that perhaps you could come to the house before dinner and we could spend time in the small library. There's much that we need to," Mary paused, looking at him. "Catch up on."

Matthew dared to look back at her. He blinked, then shook his head.

"No. I have no time for that. And there's no need to...catch up."

Mary blinked at his insinuation. "I see. Well then." She looked away, scarcely able to believe his words.

Matthew put his tea cup down. "If that will be all, Mary, I must get back to work. Alex is here, actually, and there are some matters I must discuss with him. I'll let Mother know about Cousin Cora's new floral arrangement."

Matthew rose and headed for the door, not even waiting for her. He needed to get out of the boardroom. Seeing Mary, hearing her voice, knowing he had been without her for a month was destroying his resolve. He was torn between yelling at her and demanding answers and collapsing and begging her to take him back regardless of any of her other possible liaisons. In either case, he would regret his behaviour later and so he had to escape.

Mary shook her head. The tears began to well. He was walking away from her without even seeing her out. Their conversation had been short, abrupt and without any emotion. It was a stark contrast to how they normally were with each other. As Mary looked at his retreating form, she rose from her chair and willed herself to speak. She could not let him go without at least making herself clear about everything.

"Wait, Matthew!"

"Yes?" he turned back, swallowing and willing his hands to stop shaking.

"That isn't all I came to talk to you about. That's not at all what I came to talk to you about, actually."

"It isn't?"

"Won't you sit, please?"

Matthew carefully walked back to the table and they both sat down.

They both eyed each other. They could not raise tea cups to hide their faces or look away to avert their eyes.

Mary mustered her courage. If their relationship would change irrevocably with this conversation, she was determined to hold nothing back.

"The truth is that I owe you an explanation," Mary began.

"About what?"

"Matthew, don't play coy with me. You know exactly about what."

"I'm afraid I'm not following, Mary."

"Oh, for Heaven's sake!" Mary spat, rolling her eyes and glaring at him.

"You know perfectly well what I am referring to, why you've been avoiding me, why you haven't been by to visit, why you haven't written, why you haven't called upon me, why you haven't come to meet me in the small library, why you've been torturing me for the past month!" She spoke quickly, hoping that by getting the words out she could keep her tears at bay.

"If a month without me has tortured you, as you so put it, how do you suppose I feel?" Matthew snarled, his defences broken. "For God's sake, Mary, it was your idea that we should maintain this distance between us and this ruse of indifference. That has been torture! Having to live apart from you, having to act as though every time I see you, every time I speak to you, I have to restrain myself, restrain my emotions, act as though we're merely distant cousins, when in reality I _ache_ for you! I did everything you asked, Mary! I played along with this entire scheme, even though it was absolutely ridiculous to me! I trusted you. I trusted you that the time would come when we would make our relationship clear to your family. All I had to do was wait, you said. And then you go and…" Matthew swallowed and looked away, unable to continue.

"And what? Go on! Say it! If I've ruined everything then have the decency to tell me, Matthew, honestly!"

She was crying now, but she didn't care, the tears falling down her flushed cheeks. Everything she wanted, everything she hoped for, her dream that was resurrected when he arrived at Downton was crumbling before her. It was obvious now that he knew. He knew about Pamuk coming to her. She did not understand the extent of what he knew, but it was clear he was disgusted by it, and further, by her.

"Do you have any idea what I had to bear? Any idea at all what I had to suffer through that night? Watching that damn Pamuk, that demon, that pathetic, horrible beast stalk you as if you were some morsel, some prey to be devoured?"

"He was horrible, and ghastly, and all of those things!" Mary cried. "He made my skin crawl with every covetous gaze, and all I wanted to do was run into your arms, knowing you would protect me from him, but I couldn't! I couldn't go to you because of my own stupidity and the need to do my duty, and this ridiculous scheme!"

"But...then why, Mary? Why did you let him come to you?"

Mary gasped. "I didn't! I would never betray you, Matthew! I would die before I let that happen! You have to believe me!"

Her eyes were pleading, and wet with tears, and Matthew's expression changed to stunned surprise.

"But I saw him come out of the sitting room after you. And after everyone went to bed…why was he? How did he?"

"I don't know!" Mary shook her head vigorously. "He made…advances to me in the sitting room, and I resisted him in no uncertain terms. I told him to not speak to me again. But I couldn't tell anyone because he was Evelyn's guest and I didn't want to cause a scene. After I retired, I was reading in bed and when I heard the doorknob turn, I thought it was you, so I got up to welcome you. But it was him! Then he was in the room with me and I didn't know how he got there, and he was saying such scandalous things, and I was trapped between him and the bed and I couldn't scream for fear of him being discovered in my room, and I couldn't move past him, and he was coming closer, and…"

"My God, Mary!" Matthew moved forward and caught her as she gasped for breath and sobbed. He pulled her into his embrace, holding her tight as she cried into his shoulder.

"I was about to scream! I was about to call for you, regardless of the consequences! I knew you would come. I knew you would get him away from me somehow. All I could think of was how desperately I needed to get to you, and how you would never forgive me if you found out he was in my bedroom and the thought of losing you killed me and I couldn't get him to leave! And he said that I…that I could still be a virgin for my husband…"

"Shh, it's all right. Oh, Mary, I've been so stupid. I should have protected you from that monster. You needed me and I failed you. I left you to fend for yourself like some heartless, horrible…"

"No! No, Matthew, darling, no!" Mary pulled back and framed his face with her gloved hands, mustering a slight smile despite her tears. "You did save me! It was you, wasn't it? You smashed the vase and woke the entire house!"

"Yes. I couldn't bring myself to open your door and see you…see you with him. I thought if I could wake everyone and bring them out into the hall it would stop him from…it would make him at least leave your room."

"It did! It did, my darling! And Papa did not discover us. Oh, Matthew, if not for you, I…" Mary squeezed her eyes shut, before opening them again and looking into his blue eyes. "He didn't…He didn't touch me, Matthew, because of what you did."

Matthew's eyes went wide as he recalled Pamuk's boastful words to him in the Great Hall the next morning. Lies. They were all lies.

"He didn't? You didn't? I…oh, Mary, I'm so very sorry for what I did."

"If it's anyone's fault, it's mine, for everything," Mary sobbed. "If I hadn't forced you into this charade, none of this would have happened. I don't know what I said to him to make him think I was open to any kind of…I must have done something to lead him to believe…"

"No!" Matthew roared, holding her tight. "Do not even begin to think that! You didn't do anything wrong, Mary. Nothing excuses his behaviour. Nothing. And I'm just as much a disappointment! I should have went to you right away. I should have made sure you were all right. I should have been a better man than that vile..."

"You are, Matthew! You were there for me when it mattered. You've always been there, even when I didn't deserve you. You've always been...my Perseus."

They both laughed through their tears and he pressed a firm kiss to her lips. She did not resist and kissed him back. She had missed him. God, how she had missed him.

"No more, Mary," Matthew gasped as they separated. "No more games, no more pretending." He swallowed hard. "I'm coming to dinner this evening and I'm going to ask your father for your hand. I'll tell him anything you want me to about my change of heart, but I won't wait another day, my love. Will you have me? Will you live your life with me? I can be petty and jealous and wretched and insecure. I barely know which cutlery to use at dinner. I have no title yet. I'm only a lawyer," he babbled, and Mary smiled widely.

"But I love you, Lady Mary Crawley. I love you. I will love you until the last breath leaves my body."

"Oh Matthew!" she kissed him. "No more charades. No more schemes. I'll tell Papa what I should have told him the moment that you arrived – that I will gladly spend the rest of my life with you, Matthew Crawley. I can be contrarian and very opinionated, and cold, and I argue far too much for my own good, and all I know how to do is order servants around and go shopping and plan lavish parties," she smiled through her tears.

"But I love you with all my heart, Matthew. I don't care what anyone thinks of us or knows about us. As long as I have you, that's all that truly matters."

Matthew smiled. "So will you?"

Mary smiled wide and bit her lower lip, her tears gone, replaced by a delightful fluttering that began in her stomach and spread through her chest and arms.

"You must say it properly. I won't answer unless you kneel down and everything."

Matthew smirked and shook his head at her. She wanted things her way to the last, and he loved her for it. He got out of his chair and got down on one knee. He beckoned Mary to stand and he took her right hand in both of his.

Mary looked down at his blue eyes and fought the urge to leap into his arms, formal proposal be damned. Her pulse sped up as the moment set in.

"Lady Mary Crawley," Matthew smiled up at her. "Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

"Yes!" she cried happily.

Matthew rose and they smiled at each other before kissing deeply. He picked her up and spun her around and she laughed as the walls of the boardroom whirled past her. He finally put her down and they kissed again, smiling, laughing and crying all at once.

They heard a slight knock and the door opened. Matthew and Mary looked over, still holding each other.

"Well, better late than never," Alex smiled. The receptionist came in with a silver tray with champagne glasses and placed it on the table before nodding to Matthew and leaving.

"This is a 1906 Veuve Clicquot, a very good year," Alex said, taking the bottle from the ice bucket and removing the wrapping from the neck. "I had it sent down from our London office just last month actually. I've been saving this bottle to celebrate a particularly lucrative transaction for the firm, but I think we can spare it. After all, the engagement of the year surely qualifies as a momentous occasion."

Alex popped the cork and Mary and Matthew laughed as he poured each of them a glass of champagne before taking one up himself.

"A toast," Alex smiled at them. "To the newly engaged Lady Mary Crawley and Matthew Crawley, and to not becoming tangled in their own web. Cheers!"

"Cheers!" Mary and Matthew replied happily.


End file.
